


Attachments

by texadian



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, F/F, Lena Luthor Finds Out Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor-centric, Lena hasn't met Kara yet, Lena is a smart badass, Lena works for Catco, Lena works in IT, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texadian/pseuds/texadian
Summary: After only a few hours at her new IT job at Catco, Lena is on the verge of quitting, when she stumbles upon delicate information. Despite not knowing the people behind the messages, Lena goes out of her way to keep her fellow employee's identity a secret.ORAU where Kara still works for Cat and Lena just started a midnight IT shift. Kara and Winn's carelessness leaves Kara's Supergirl identity exposed and Lena helps keep it a secret. Slow build (they don't even meet for the first part) and lots of fun Superfriends messages.





	1. Lena

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is background/introduction to Lena's current situation.
> 
> Inspired by Rainbow Rowell's novel of the same name.

In retrospect, it wasn’t really  _ that  _ much of an issue. National City was bound to have some form of grocery store or fast-food open past midnight, but Lena wanted to bring actual food with her for her lunch break. The three zip-locks and plastic container with no lid currently occupying her kitchen drawer would not suffice to hold the chicken scampi she’d prepared that afternoon. 

“Frig,” she swore out loud. 

She shook her head at the preposterousness of her  _ swear  _ word. 

“Fuck!” she yelled louder, because no ex of hers—who’d prefer it if she wouldn’t swear—would stop her from going full sailor now that they’d split. Now that Lena had practically moved across the country and taken the first available job in her field she could find.

It had horrible hours—8 pm to 4 am—and the pay was barely admissible, but it was well within her ability and had hired her on the spot. Probably, because it was such a shit job. It wouldn’t matter though, because in a few months she’d find a better one and have Catco Media on her resumé.

It felt odd, leaving the house after dark to head to work. With the rest of her dinner sitting in a pot in the fridge, Lena maneuvered the busy night streets of National City with only her purse and laptop bag. The crowd was young here and even the streets out as far as the rent-controlled side of town were busy. Lena noted the hole-in-the-wall lunch places with closed signs hanging in their windows and the fancy bistros halfway through their dinner rush. Lena dropped her head, trying to ignore the want to return home with a box of take-away and curl up on her… desk chair. 

The rest of her things were still in Metropolis where she was trying to sell her current apartment. It left her missing a few things and lacking others that hadn’t been shipped yet—like proper leftover containers. 

She was only a tad surprised to see Catco still bustling with people filing in and out on the street level entrance. She looked up at its tall windows, noting which floors glowed a dim yellow and which ones merely reflected lights from other buildings. She would be half-way up—a dim yellow light throughout the whole night.

 

Lena sat in the lobby of the 15th floor with her purse in her lap and her laptop bag leaning against a jean-clad leg.  _ It’s super casual, so dress down,  _ her new boss had said over the phone. Lena was used to power suits and black dresses, so coming to work in dark jeans and a blouse felt wrong on so many levels. 

“Lena?” a familiar voice called.

She looked up to see her new boss walking out of a set of matte glass doors wearing ripped jeans and a ratty polo. 

“Shaun?” she asked, trying to repress the stress lines that always formed on her forehead. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, shooting her a goofy smile. “Welcome.”

Waving her over, he led her through the open door into a room of offices and cubicles. He held his arms out and turned in a circle.

“Welcome to the IT floor.”

The room was empty. Absolutely deserted. 

Lena held her hand over her mouth and breathe in to say something, when he beat her to it. 

“They go home early,” he replied. 

“But all the people—”

“—The news people?” he interrupted. “They’re here like, 24-7. But IT…” He laughed. “They hit the street when the clock strikes 5.”

“So it’s just you and me overnight?” Lena shifted her purse up her arm, holding it tighter. 

“I’ll be up a floor—some management offices.” He showed her his name tag that hung from a beaded cord around his neck. “But hey, no line for coffee, no nasty smelling washrooms—down the hall on your left by the way—and you have your own office each night.”

He turned around, not paying attention to the bewildered expression on Lena’s face and began peering inside open offices. 

“You can use Dilworth’s at night. He’s pretty clean. Just don’t spill anything.” He held his hand up in a pause. “Actually, just eat out here to be safe.”

Lena bit the inside of her lip.  _ Who was he to assume she’d be spilling anything? He was wearing flip flops for crying out loud.  _

 

It took some shifting around to set up. Dilworth apparently had a hundred children—or family members—and liked his display of McDonald's toys around the back of his monitor. Lena slid an old miniature Furby back and turned its body around to face the wall. 

“You’ll be using this laptop for work,” Shaun said, walking in and placing it on a clear area of the desk. “It’s equipped with fingerprint scanners that are set up for you, but always use the same finger. If it fails logging in twice, it will erase all data and that won’t be fun for either of us.”

Lena nodded. It was a lot to take in. Much more than her last job where the worst thing that could happen was receiving an error message from a typo in the code. 

“Our last security system was hacked so they’ve gone full-on defcon five upstairs,” Shaun noted. “They’ve installed new encryption software, but the old system that tracked inter-company correspondence has been scrapped.”

He pulled a chair from outside Dilworth’s office and rolled it over beside Lena’s. 

“We’ve already got the script running, so there isn’t much work,” he continued. 

His fingers tapped impatiently against the peeling siding on the desk. 

“If an employee within the company sends an email, memo, or instant message containing one of their  _ red flag  _ words,” he said, air quoting  _ red flag _ , “then it will be forwarded to you through the software. Look it over and make sure they’re not conspiring against the company and such or committing a felony etc.”

“So I’m just reading emails?” Lena asked, rubbing her forehead. 

“Uh, more like screening,” Shaun supplied. 

“And if someone is swearing a lot or misusing company computers for other business—sexting—” he said in a mock whisper, “then send their log-in ID a warning message.”

Lena held back an exasperated laugh. 

“And what happens with these warnings?” 

Shaun shrugged. 

“Nothing. They usually just scare them enough to stop. Bigwigs don’t like us employees chit-chatting and flirting away on their time. So just use your cell for that.”

“I see.” 

Lena wondered how they’d feel about her using company time to look for a new job. 

“Is that it?” she asked. 

“Oh!” Shaun scooched the chair back and hopped up, searching the shelves on the other side of the room for something. 

He pulled out a small TV, probably from the 90s, and set it on the desk beside Lena’s work laptop. 

“Here,” he kneeled down, yanking the TV’s cord from where it had wedged underneath his chair, and plugged it into a power outlet. “Some nights are slow, so I suggest bringing with you some DVDs.”

He walked back to the shelves and returned with a tiny disc player. 

“They don’t want you working with your personal laptop for security reasons, but this old guy can’t connect to shit, so you’ll be fine.”

Lena nodded slowly. This was a joke. One giant joke. How could this position even be classified as IT? She had a degree in computer science! Lena took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down her jeans. 

“If you have any questions, just call.” He tapped Dilworth’s office phone on the desk, before taping a sticky note on top. 

_ Shaun,  _ it read.  _ Ext. 525 _

“Dial 9 before the number if you want to call out of the building… But it’s 2016. So, I doubt you’d really need to.”

Lena forced out a chuckle. 

“Yes, I doubt I would.”

Shaun walked over to the door, a slouch in every step he took. 

“I’ll check back in after your lunch break,” he began. “Make sure you haven’t fled yet.”

It was a joke, but both seemed to share an uneasy laugh. 

“Night,” he said with a wave. Then he was gone. 

 

It took a great deal longer to figure out the old work laptop. The finger scanner was attached via USB and wouldn’t connect properly unless Lena held the cord with one hand and scanned her index finger with the other. 

There apparently hadn’t been a  _ screener  _ working here since they installed the new system, because there were 3600 red flag texts waiting for her to read over. After the first forty, Lena realized most were flagged for cursing or risque language. 

 

>I didn’t know we had a scheduled meeting until I was twenty  **fucking** minutes late.< sent 03/04/16 14:38 from 18.20.16.91 to 192.168.1.55

 

>F0cking Diana is back again. Can’t believe she didnt  **cum** last wekk< sent 03/05/16 10:12 from 172.16.254.1 to 10.8.3.193

 

It was somewhat satisfying to see the highlight disappear from every text passage she read, but after two hours, the number had only shrunk down to 3450. Every time a long email would come up, she’d try focusing only on the red bolded text, but sometimes it was just too easy to be nosy. 

 

>Felipe, 

 

I asked Christine about the floor scavenger hunt for next week, but she said we should hold off on it until the weather gets warmer. Like getting  **exposed** to any chilly weather will kill her… I swear she just doesn’t want to cooperate with me. Can you try and speak with her for me? 

 

You’re the best, 

 

Hailley < sent 03/10/16 12:12 from 216.109.112.135 to 216.127.72.7

 

At midnight, Lena logged off on her work laptop, grabbed her purse, and headed out in search of food. Two blocks down she found a wrap place still open. The employees looked more dead than she did, so she gave them an apologetic smile when her order teetered on complex.

“No kale?”

The girl behind the counter shook her head. 

“Lettuce is fine then,” Lena replied, nodding her head. 

The girl picked a handful out with her gloved hand and plopped it down on top of the rest of her veggies.

“Anything else, ma’am?”

Lena shook her head and slid down the counter to the cashier. Before she paid, her phone dinged with an email. 

 

Lena, 

 

Hope the new job is working out. I heard from your mother that the hours are horrible, but I’m sure you’ll make it through.

 

Jack

 

Lena laughed, walled by her ex’s email.  _ He’d talked to her mother?  _

The girl behind the counter cleared her throat. God, Lena probably looked like a crazy woman—ordering a wrap at 12:30 at night and laughing bitterly at her phone. 

“8.35,” the girl repeated. 

Lena muttered out a sorry, before handing the girl her credit card, and hitting reply on her email app. 

“It’s going great,” she mumbled to herself while typing out the message. 

The girl handed Lena back her card and slid the wrap on a tray across the counter. 

“Have a good night,” she said in monotone voice. 

Lena simply hummed and picked up the paper rolled wrap in one hand, ignoring the tray. 

 

When she got back to the office, Lena pulled her jar of kombucha out of her purse and set the veggie wrap on the table outside of Dilworth’s office. She wondered what would happen if she took an extra long break. Would anyone notice? Would Shaun even care? Speaking of the hippie, where was he? 

Despite no visit from her boss yet, at 1 am Lena walked back into the cave that was Dilworth’s office and opened the laptop back up. The harsh fluorescents in the room were too bright in contrast to the rooms outside, so Lena worked with a desk lamp. 

By 2:30 she was on her last tank of gas, head slumped over against her hand with an elbow propping her up. She’d gone through another 50 emails and a hundred or so odd memos and IMs. Then, a short IM caught her attention. 

 

>It might be  **risky** _ ,  _ but I think we can pull it off< sent 04/01/16 5:45 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

“Huh,” Lena mumbled. 

_ This could be something.  _

She copied the computer’s IP address and searched the rest of the red flags for any more highlighted texts. 12 popped up, but they were just curse words and a compiled list of the owner’s favourite movies, including  _ number 4: Risky Business.  _

Still, the IM was odd and alerting. Lena picked up the office phone and typed in Shaun’s extension. After three rings it went to voicemail. 

“Shiz,” Lena swore, slamming the phone back in its cradle. 

She turned back to the laptop and began pulling down untouched menus on the program. She found another search bar and typed the IP into that one. This time, the loading hourglass spun for a minute, before an incomplete list of emails and messages from the IP popped up. 

 

>James, 

 

The gang is meeting up at 6, so let me know if you’ll be finished up by then. If not, we can save you some food.

 

Winn< sent 02/20/16 15:13 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>Can we talk?< sent 02/23/16 14:01 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

Lena stopped reading after the first few. This was a person. Between the words and numbers were people—people likely at home, in bed, alarm set to wake them up in a few hours. And here Lena was, snooping through their emails. In the back of her mind a voice warned her of how wrong this was, but what if it wasn’t something naive? What if she could be the one to out a company scandal or corruption? She hit control + F and pressed on. 

Copying the receiving IP in the find bar, Lena clicked enter and waited as a smaller, but still substantial list of texts popped up. Most were IMs, which meant the receiver’s name wasn’t included at all, while the email’s last names and contact details were blurred out for privacy. Lena scanned down the list until she found a text file larger than most. 

 

>Kara,

 

I spoke with James and he said he was onboard. He’ll contact Clark tomorrow, but for now, we need to discuss the suit. 7:30 at your place sound fine? I’ll bring food and beers. Alex can come too, but lie and tell her it’s BYOB. My accounts been really taking a hit lately and I want to save some for next time I’m over. 

 

Your trusting computer-genius, 

 

Winn< sent 03/25/16 16:22 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 13:36

 

Then the next.

 

>How did it feel last night?< sent 03/27/16 8:45 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 13:36

 

Lena looked away from the computer. Had she just accidentally stumbled into someone’s kinky relationship? She hit next and braced herself. 

 

>I don’t think so. I can look into a new material better suited for flying, but I’m busy with Cat stuff right now< sent 03/27/16 8:52 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 13:36

 

_ Flying? _

 

Lena went back to her search filter and looked up messages sent out between 8:45 and 8:52 on the morning of March the 27th from the other IP. There was only one. 

 

>For the most part, good. Do you think it looks a little pretentious with the House of El S plastered right over my chest? Also, the material was a little stiff at higher altitudes.< sent 03/27/16 8:49 from 172.30.0.218 13:36 to 69.89.31.226

 

_ Suit? S? Flying?  _ Lena’s eyes went wide.  _ Supergirl?  _

She shoved her chair back from the desk and spun around, knocking her half-finished drink to the floor. 

“Shit,” she hissed, picking it up quickly. 

The drink had left a dark stain on the light blue carpeting, but Lena could barely spare the effort to care. 

_ Supergirl worked for Catco?  _ Her new job in National City just got a bit more interesting. 


	2. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena has decisions to make over her new discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is safe to assume that events do not coincide with canon's timeline. Thank you for everyone's comments and interest.

Lena woke the following afternoon disoriented and dazed. She gazed up from her frame-less bed to the windows she’d covered with cardboard boxes. It was going to take a while to get used to her job’s odd hours. 

Instead of getting up immediately, Lena lied back down and shifted an extra pillow behind her back. She tapped her phone’s screen in front of her impatiently with the tip of her nail, before clicking on the little Facebook icon. The app opened to a picture album from colleagues back in Metropolis and a non-existent notification bubble at the bottom. At once, Lena felt foolish for even opening it in the first place. She’d had colleagues and acquaintances back in Metropolis. But friends?

Lena hit the search bar at the top of the app with the pad of her finger and typed  _ Kara  _ into the field. The results were numerous, but most at the top were connected to people back home. Lena tried again, adding in  _ Catco,  _ but the extra identifier made little difference. 

That night—well morning—had consisted of at least three vivid dreams, to which she could remember. Each was filled with the woman in blue and red. In one, Lena imagined Supergirl saving her from a fire in a room on the edge of a cliff. The room had no walls, but Lena had felt trapped and unable to escape. 

In the second, Supergirl was introduced as her new coworker and they sat side by side in Dilworth’s office, complaining about the difficulties of working two jobs. Lena supposed this meant Supergirl’s hero work, but had no clue to what she moon—day—lighted as. 

The final was hazy and she could only recall a snip-it of conversation. It was from the video Lena had watched on the news four weeks back—the one where Supergirl had saved the plane. Except, sitting in Supergirl’s arm on top of the plane, was Lena. Supergirl looked down at her, clad in civilian clothes, and smiled. The image was hard to visualize now, but Lena’s words still rung in her ears.  _ My hero,  _ she had said, hair damp from the sea spray. She knew there was more, but by the time she had her lunch for the night prepared, the memory had faded. 

Lena looked over at the oven clock— _ 5:24— _ Kara was sure to be home for the day or onto whatever Superheros did. It also meant Lena only had a couple of hours until she’d make her way up to the 15th floor ghost town. 

Shaun was waiting for her when she stepped off the elevator at 7:57, three minutes early. Her purse was tucked under her shoulder and her small lunch bag in hand. 

“Hello Miss Luthor. Welcome back,” Shaun said. 

He was sitting on the counter in the front entryway with the same beat-up flip flops from the day before—this time with dark jeans and a Hawaiian button-up to accompany them. 

“Before I leave you to it, I just wanted to make sure you had no questions.”

Shaun’s unblinking eyes held Lena’s gaze until she dropped her head down to straighten her slacks, and looked back up. 

“No. Everything was fine,” she lied. 

“All right. If you have any questions, I’d suggest sending them early. I’m not always at my desk in the early hours.”

He cleared his throat before hopping down and ambling over to the elevator. It was still at their floor when he hit the up button, so he stepped on. 

“Adios, muchacha.” 

He made a slight wave with his hand before the doors closed and Lena was once again, heading inside on her own. 

It was a bit of a relief to see that her carpet stain from the night before had faded and either Dilworth hadn’t noticed or didn’t care enough to bring up the incident. Lena sat down in the chair, giving a bit more than intended after years of use. 

It was fair to note that Lena usually showed restraint in life. She’d never binged junk foods or TV shows online. She held her tongue when misogynistic assbags made rude comments at the grocery store or in line for coffee, and she always put spending limits on her shopping trips. But tonight, restraint sort of went out the window. 

Lena quickly logged onto her computer with the faulty fingerprint scanner, then brought up the IP search from the night before. The old IPs had been cleared, so Lena backlogged through the flagged messages—noticing the number had gone up by twenty over the day—and found Kara’s IP. 

Thirteen. There were thirteen new messages—either outgoing or incoming—with Kara and Winn’s IP. Lena opened them all in separate windows, then read. 

The first two were expectedly work-related. That was a gimme. Something about a social media post that Cat had typed up ( _ she worked with Cat? _ ), but never uploaded. The next few were lunch related—Noonan’s or the new Asian restaurant down the street with the  _ to die for  _ potstickers. And the last string of messages was uninterruptible from just the IMs. 

 

>You never said yes or no< sent 05/18/16 14:00 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226  

 

>No< sent 05/18/16 14:20 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>You were supposed to stay vague< sent 05/18/16 14:21 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226 

 

>Winn< sent 05/18/16 14:25 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Kara< sent 05/18/16 14:25 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>My place for Friday?< sent 05/18/16 14:28 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Yeah. Fine.< sent 05/18/16 14:30 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226 

 

Lena held her finger over the track pad on the laptop, waiting to close the final message window. She found her eyes trained on the  _ You never said yes or no  _ message, believing that she might decipher it if only looking at it for another minute. 

The window disappeared leaving behind a solitary search window. Lena closed that too and logged-in to the ‘red flag’ program to check on the new flags. Kara and Winn hadn’t mentioned any Supergirl behaviour, but maybe someone else had. To her delight and entertainment, the red flags were all from cursing or sexually explicit words. 

 

> **Fuck** U< sent 05/18/16 11:01 from 45.79.151.23 to 172.16.81.100

 

Lena let out a breathy laugh. 

“Well, that’s terse,” she quipped to herself, moving on.

In the course of four hours, Lena had moved through another two hundred red flags, taking the odd coffee or washroom break if only to get a change of scenery.

At lunch, Lena picked around the last of her leafy salad with a fork, looking up occasionally to see no one there. Lena hadn’t realized until this job how lonely it was to eat lunch alone in an empty office. It wasn’t like she used to always take lunch breaks with friends back in metropolis. In fact, for most lunches, Lena ate alone at trendy new bistros and sushi bars—too enamoured by the food to care about the chattering around her. Dinners weren’t bad. If she didn’t have an outing for work, she’d flick the TV on and watch late shows or the news. And breakfasts—who ate with other for breakfast anyway? 

Lena’s lack of friends had started much earlier than her adult life in Metropolis, though. Lena wasn’t hostile around others and she tried not to give off an unfriendly demeanor. It was the reputation. It was her mother and her brother and more importantly, the family name in general. They were your stereotypical rich family that gave nothing back—complete with a cruel brother who’d seen the inside of a jail cell multiple times for shady business practices. Lena wanted none of it and had cut-off ties when she’d finished grad school.  

Lena glanced down to her phone sitting face up on the table. Its clear glass caught the long line of light from above, before she hit the home button, and her lock screen lit up. The face of a mixed lab panting beside a younger Lena reflected off her eyes. She’d missed Jack’s dog more than the man himself in the weeks after their break-up. Maybe it was because most mornings she’d woken to Lilah, wagging her tail against the light comforter. It was like brush bristles against a canvas and it was one of the nicest sounds to wake to. 

With a nod of her head, she pressed her thumb to the lock button and unlocked it to the home screen. It was on Facebook still, so she closed the app and brought up an internet browser. Catco was in her saved tabs from when she’d applied so it didn’t take long to navigate to the company’s news feed. She started with Kara’s name in the article search, then switched over to the magazine section, and finally the IT help page, just in case. She tried Winn’s name in the same search sections, but both showed no results. She stayed on the IT page after—saw Shaun’s name fourth from the top, but noticed hers made no appearance. 

Tapping the button at the top of her phone, she forced it into sleep mode and pushed it across the table. It slid a few inches before getting stuck in her drink’s condensation puddle. Lena let out a quiet guffaw. What was she looking for? A picture of Supergirl in her street clothes disguise? The woman was gorgeous and it wouldn’t take a Facebook profile picture or a low quality magazine photo for Lena to confirm that. If not to look at, why did she need to see Kara’s name outside of her computer’s message search?

She knew somewhere inside that she wanted to know more. She was a Luthor—curiosity ran in their family and had only killed her father as of yet. Maybe she wanted to know if she’d ever walked passed Supergirl. They could’ve bumped bags on a busy corner or made fleeting eye contact at the supermarket. Maybe she’d been at the same club Lena went to on her first night in the city. Kara could’ve brushed arms with her on the dance floor or stood behind her at the bar, breathing in Lena’s Burberry perfume. 

Lena clicked the plastic lid on her tupperware shut and packed the rest of her lunch up into the bag. Not afraid of anything being stolen, she left it on the table and walked back to  _ her  _ office. She’d been lazy and hadn’t logged-off on her computer, leaving the screen to switch to a slideshow screensaver of the Windows starter-pack images. She hit the spacebar and watched as the green field flickered away. 

The endless list of red flags was too daunting at the moment. Lena figured that if she went through 200 red flags a day—on average—and there were about twenty new red flags each day, then it would take just over 18 days to go through them all. Eighteen days and then she’d be forced to bring in DVDs as Shaun had said or occupy her time some other way. And if she went through it faster… That just wouldn’t do. 

Lena opened up the command prompt to access the red flag software’s location and began copying over its properties to a different document. After pulling other files from online, Lena accessed the source code to make...slight modifications. It wasn’t like she was paid to do this by a previous employer or anything. After editing one of the private classes, Lena closed the open windows and restarted the red flag program. 

She went back to the recently visited icon and found that it was now empty. A slow smile spread across her face before she hid it, curling her lips in with a smack. She was a Luthor—shady business was her family’s standard. 

It didn’t take long for Lena to find the Supergirl related messages and highlight all the ones she’d read the day before. A permanent delete was never permanently deleted, but Lena had plans for that the next day. It wasn’t until she found her ring finger hovering over the delete key that her mouth felt dry. She swallowed, vision of the screen blurring out of focus. Who was Kara to her? Who was Supergirl to her, to permanently delete company files? 

Months ago, when the news of Supergirl had first aired, Jack was the one practically standing over their TV, pointing at the woman with the remote. 

“Great another one,” he’d said. “And a woman this time.” 

Lena didn’t know what that meant and didn’t want to ask. But as more news popped up of National City’s very own Super, Lena began to see her separately from their own caped hero. Where she lacked Superman’s suave and pretentious nature, Supergirl felt more down to Earth—pun not intended.  

Lena’s eye rose back to the screen. She knew that there was no easy way to retrieve the data once she’d hit delete. But why would she want anyone finding it anyway? It was no concern of the company and no concern of anyone’s but Supergirl’s. With a defiant flick of the key, Lena deleted the files and closed the window. If she was stuck snooping into people’s lives on the graveyard shift, it was only fitting she could also do some good. 


	3. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena maneuvers the moral grey areas of protecting Supergirl's identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This an AU and I've made changes to some character's backstories. For clarity, Lex never fought Superman, but has still made many poor decisions with his family's company.

Lena was nervous. So nervous that she’d spent the first half of her day knocking off red flags from the list like shots at a bar. So nervous that even though she was 99.95% positive that no one would be able to recover Supergirl’s messages, she still couldn’t help but twist the straps on her purse as she entered Wrap Zone. 

“Welcome,” the girl with two black plaits said from behind the toppings display. 

“Hi,” Lena said, glancing up to acknowledge the girl before scanning the board of choices above her. 

“I’ll do the veggie wrap combo—”

“2?” the girl asked, already reaching for the spinach tortilla. 

Lena tried stop her brows from scrunching, before she smiled back. 

“Yes. That’s right,” Lena said. 

She stood in silence as the girl filled the wrap the way Lena had ordered the previous four times. Spending so much time outside of work on Supergirl business, as she had coined it, meant less homecooked meals and more lunches out, if not to just breath. 

“Not many regulars this time at night?” Lena asked when the girl began to ring her through. 

“The only one that’s not a total creep or sleep-deprived student,” she noted, eyes hovering over to the people outside the shop. 

Lena followed her gaze to a few girls leaning against the window, backpacks hanging low against their torn shorts, practically inhaling their wraps. 

“Thank you,” Lena nodded, taking her wrap from the counter. 

She had it open, taking a bite, before the shop door dinged. 

“Settle something for us,” one of the students outside asked before Lena could cross the street. 

“Hmm?” She turned. “What’s that?”

“You’re too classy to be a hooker, but it’s a Monday night and this side of town isn’t exactly known for its bars and clubs.”

“I didn’t hear question, there.” Lena smirked, the side of her lips raised. 

She looked over the three girls—tried to see herself at twenty—in their shoes. However, her late nights studying never lead to midnight food runs and she certainly couldn’t have told anyone where the clubs were. 

“I hadn’t asked one yet,” the tallest of the three replied. 

She pushed herself off the wall, letting her crinkled shirt straighten out enough for Lena to read it.  _ Drink Responsibly. Drink with a chemist.  _

“Well?” Lena asked, waiting. 

“What do you do?” the girl replied, crumbling the empty wrapper in her hands. “Unless you just get the munchies at midnight.”

Lena shook her head, then lowered the wrap from her mouth. 

“Not a lot,” Lena replied, bitterness dripping from her tongue like the chipotle sauce on her wrap. 

The girls seemed taken back by the reply. They turned away from Lena, mumbling amongst themselves. Her answer obviously wasn’t entertaining enough to hold their attention any longer. Something about this made Lena want to rewind time and change her answer, maybe even lie. 

 

The last of Lena’s program files had installed by the time she returned to Dilworth’s office. A small window reading  _ Installation complete  _ waited for her after logging back onto the laptop. On the corner of her desk, a new sticky note had appeared in the same writing as Shaun’s number beside the landline. 

_ Your direct deposit info has been delivered to accounting, but you’ll have to pick up your first cheque during normal office hours.  _

Lena folded the note up and slipped it into her jeans pocket. Her boss was more elusive than Jack had been in the final weeks of their relationship. Lena shuddered at the memory—how hard it was to pack up her things when she’d just moved in with him not six months before. How quick things had taken a steep dive. Whatever had happened was behind her now. She had to remind herself everyday, but eventually it would set in. 

There was new messages between Kara and Winn’s IP from the day before. None had raised any of her or Shaun’s red flags, but she still opened them up in one continuous window to read. 

 

>About what you said on Friday< sent 05/23/16 9:10 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226  

 

>Do we have to discuss this now??< sent 05/23/16 9:12 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>You didn’t answer my texts all weekend< sent 05/23/16 9:15 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226 

 

>Sorry< sent 05/23/16 9:22 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>It’s fine Kara< sent 05/23/16 9:23 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>It’s cuz you’re gay, right?< sent 05/23/16 9:24 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>You know that’s not why, Winn< sent 05/23/16 9:25 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Can’t you just say it is.< sent 05/23/16 9:26 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226 

 

>I’m not a lesbian though, Winn< sent 05/23/16 9:26 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

Lena leaned back in her chair, so far back her heels barely scraped at the carpet. She clicked her tongue, then leaned forward and closed the window. She felt a queasy stirring in her stomach, but it wasn’t the wrap. 

She wasn’t disappointed. That wasn’t it at all. She just felt guilty for snooping into these total strangers’ lives. So guilty, in fact, that she couldn’t bare to look at the screen any longer. 

 

There was a new sticky note waiting for her desk the following evening when she came into work. Her muscles tightened and for a second she thought that this was it. They’d caught onto her misuse of company property and she was going to jail. But as she got closer, she realized the sticky was too short for any accusatory statements.  _ Hope your second week is going well, Shaun.  _ Underneath was a lopsided smiley face—the eyes too far apart. Lena moved it over beside his 1st note next to the phone and turned on her laptop. 

She’d made a decision that afternoon. She’d decided to make a commitment to Supergirl that she’d stay on at Catco for as long as possible until she knew that her identity was safe. The first step towards that was to stop any of her or her Superfriends from disclosing delicate information on the Catco servers. 

Lena brought up a different window this time and logged in with her Catco ID. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of this earlier, but there under a tab called  _ Company Directory  _ was a list of all of Catco’s current employees. She typed Kara’s name in again like she’d done many times before and hit enter. 

There was one find in the results.  _ Kara Danvers. +1 (555) 807-8949.  _

Lena moved her hand from the trackpad to the stack of yellow stickies on the desk and carefully wrote out the information in her neatest handwriting. She could see her hand shaking as she lowered the pen back to the desk and clicked it in.  _ Kara Danvers.  _ It fit perfectly between her teeth and tongue. Four syllables. There it was. Lena let out a nervous laugh and stuck the note in her purse. 

She spent the following two hours scanning through  _ Kara Danvers’  _ outgoing messages, removing any that bordered on risque. She expanded her search from just Winn and James and began poking through new IPs she’d seen on more than one occasion. 

 

>Please tell me you’re still planning on accompanying me tonight?< sent 01/12/16 17:12 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Kira?< sent 01/12/16 17:13 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Of course, Ms. Grant< sent 01/12/16 17:13 from 69.89.31.226 to 208.94.240252 

 

_ Ms. Grant? Catco CEO Ms. Grant? _

 

>Wear the backless blue dress tonight< sent 01/12/16 17:15 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Blair is bringing a distraction with him and I need a distraction of my own< sent 01/12/16 17:15 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>;)< sent 01/12/16 17:15 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Did I use the emoji right?< sent 01/12/16 17:16 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>lol. Yes Ms. Grant.< sent 01/12/16 17:17 from 69.89.31.226 to 208.94.240252 

 

>lol, Kira? We’re not school children. Please stay professional.< sent 01/12/16 17:18 from 208.94.240252 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Yes. Of course. Sorry. < sent 01/12/16 17:18 from 69.89.31.226 to 208.94.240252 

 

Lena nearly slipped out of her chair when her phone began ringing beside the chair in her purse. 

“Shizz,” she breathed out, reaching down to fumble through its contents. 

“Hello,” she answered, eyes still glued to the conversation in front of her. 

“Lena?” a voice said on the other end. 

Lena pulled the phone back far enough to check the caller ID she hadn’t bothered to read earlier. 

“Hi Jack.”

“You sound nervous. Is there anything wrong?”

Lena shook her head vibrantly, before whispering, “no.”

“I saw that your apartment listing was removed,” he said, sounding almost as unsure as she. “That’s it then?”

Lena gulped. “Yeah.”

There was a pause on the other end before, “When you come out here—”

“Yeah?” Lena asked. 

“Would you want to meet up for lunch. I know I don’t deserve one, but—”

“Yes,” Lena replied.

Maybe it was because she was lonely. Maybe it was because she was curious. 

“Yes, that sounds lovely.” 

She ran her free hand down the side of her jeans and let out a steady breath.

“Great. Let me know when you’re back in town and I’ll set up reservations.”

Lena ran her tongue against the back of her bottom teeth and somehow Jack knew something was up. 

“Lena?”

“No reservations. No fancy places I can’t afford on this shitty IT salary. Please.”

She heard Jack sigh, but he was quick to recover. 

“Of course. I’ll look forward to your call.”

“Bye, Jack,” Lena said. 

“Bye, Lena.”

 

Cat and Kara’s exchange was still waiting for her when she set her phone back on the desk.  _ Who was Cat to Kara anyway?  _ Lena’s jaw tensed, before she moved on. Reading through more of Cat and Kara’s exchanges left Lena hunched over the screen with her free hand in a ball against the wood of the table. 

There was no reason, not even if Kara was her assistant, for Cat to talk to her like that. One moment, the two bickered like ex-lovers and the next Cat couldn’t even remember Kara’s name. 

It was clear there was no Supergirl talk between the two, so Kara moved back to the Superfriends. An email from James the Friday before was a little to  _ Super  _ for comfort, so Lena read through it before deleting it. 

 

>Kara, 

 

I heard from your sister about the fight. Get some rest tonight after work. We’ll be over with potstickers and ice cream around 7 for game night. Winn has some secret weapon for monopoly apparently, so bring your A game. We have a streak to keep up. 

 

James< sent 05/20/16 7:24 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

She had a sister. It was all so human—all so normal. Lena felt the first genuine smile grace her face. Even after the email disappeared from the list, lost in the the depths of her server modification, Lena continued to picture Supergirl, in her Superhero outfit, crowded around a Monopoly board with her  _ sister  _ and friends. 

Lena remembered the game nights two of her co-workers hosted every Thursday, back in Metropolis. They had started as Game of Thrones viewing parties, then Star Wars marathons,  and eventually full on League tournaments. She always played as Sona, from her University days, and liked to think she was her team’s secret weapon. 

She never came off as much of a geek—even for a computer science major. Her classmates in school always said she was the closeted geek—blending with the regular folk, only to use her geek powers in times of need. 

She missed her League group. It’d been months since she’d spoken to most of them and even longer before that that she’d participated. One of the last Thursday nights she’d attended had been at the apartment she’d rented with Jack. She was hosting for the first time and was excited for him to meet her  _ friends _ . She’d cleaned the night before and raced home to make appetizers and cocktails for the group. They were part way through the second game when her cell phone rang. It was Jack. She let it go to voicemail once, but when it rang again, she decided it was best to answer. Her co-workers paused their game and mingled while she stepped into the hall to take the call. 

“I know I said I was going to make it back to meet your friends,” Jack had began, voice choppy like he was distracted. “But I’m busy at work.”

“Okay…” Lena drew her voice out. 

It wasn’t that she was mad at him or even disappointed. If anything, she was upset with herself. After weeks of the same excuse with little to no explanation, she’d actually expected him to come home at a decent time. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just Lena. She hung up shortly after and escaped to the bathroom. Against the towel set they’d picked out together, the tears just came. She wasn’t one to cry over something so small. But the breakdown of her relationship, she supposed, wasn’t small. 

They’d put so much time into each other’s lives—both before they got together and during—and now… One moment he was the sweetest man, dropping off her favourite latte at work or remembering to compost their dinner’s leftovers. But more recently, more than ever before, he was cold and absent and so caught up in his lies that he couldn’t even remember them all—sometimes disregarding what he’d said the night before like he’d forgotten. But his words were cold and struck Lena hard and no matter the man he used to be, she couldn’t overlook them forever. 

She returned to her League game that night with a forced smile and her mascara back in place.  _ Overseas meeting,  _ she supplied as an excuse for his absence. Her co-workers ate it up and the night moved on until it was 11:30 and all guests had filed out. The next morning she couldn’t even recall him ever getting in bed beside her. Her hand reached out to Lilah like a lifeline and drew the Lab into her side—sniffing against her fur until she pawed at Lena’s hair, fidgeting.  

 

Lena came home later than usual that morning. Her body seemed to move slower everywhere it went. She didn’t pack up her things until five after and felt heavy as she headed for the elevator. Her fingers lingered over the floor numbers, noticing 21 was two rows below hers. It was just past 4 o’clock in the morning though, and none of the day-time employees were due in for another few hours. 

At home, Lena snacked on a leftover fruit salad, before going to bed, not in the mood to eat. She pulled the sticky note with Kara’s work number out and set it down on her night stand. Another four hours and thirty two minutes before the blonde was sure to be at her desk. Lena stared at the note for another few minutes before picking it up and adding the contact to her phone as  _ K Catco _ . Then she stowed it in her dressed drawer and lied down. Cracks between the cardboard across her window let in yellow light from the street lamps outside. It wasn’t until the light had faded to a cool blue that she gave in to sleep. 


	4. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena's idleness finally comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This does not have a beta, so feel free to notify me of any mistakes or discontinuity.

The longer Lena worked the graveyard shift at Catco, the more accustomed she became to waking up at noon. The first few afternoons after she’d started left her groggy and tired, even with seven to eight hours of sleep. Now, the sun high in the sky, pierced the cracks in her make-shift blinds like morning rays peeking in. 

As if waking after a bad dream, Lena looked down, recalling the T-shirt she’d worn to bed earlier, then grabbed her phone she’d forgotten to plug in that morning. She scrolled through her messages—her mom, Jack, and her last cell phone bill reminder. 

Then everything from earlier that day hit her. Kara Danvers. Supergirl. She opened up her contacts and found  _ K Catco  _ right where she’d left it, untouched in her phone. What would happen if her finger slipped? A single touch and Kara’s work phone would be ringing. 

Lena let her phone fall to the duvet. It sank into the mass of sheets like cereal into a bowl of milk. Food. She hadn’t properly eaten in nearly twelve hours. Lena got up and fixed herself a PB&J for old times sake—old times sake and having a nearly barren kitchen.

_ What would I even say if I called?  _ Lena thought as she tried to dislodge a piece of peanut out from between her molars with her tongue.  _ If I were you, I’d stop using company property to discuss Super business? _

Maybe she should have gotten the contact info of one of Kara’s friends. There was something less nerve-wracking and intimidating about calling Winn or even James. 

Lena stood from the table, half-eaten sandwich still on her plate, and walked back to her bedroom to dress for the afternoon. She’d been using all of her casual clothes for work that her clean clothes hanging in her closet consisted of mainly suits and bodycon or A-line dresses. Lena found a solid navy skirt and a dark shawl to match it and slipped into both like stepping back into a past self. She moved over to the mirror hanging just above her dresser and flipped her head forward, capturing her long dark hair in a high ponytail. 

If she pretended hard enough, she could almost convince herself that she was returning to her old job, just finishing off her lunch break. Her lipstick, a dark red, was applied neatly and her black eyeliner, swept across each lid, streaked evenly above her eyelashes. It didn’t matter that she was just making a quick jaunt over to the grocers, she’d look amazing doing it. 

The grocers was not where Lena ended up fifteen minutes later, however. With a hand raised to cover her eyes from the sun, Lena looked up at Catco, a completely different place than the barely lit building she’d left hours before. After pacing in front of it for nearly ten minutes, a man walking into the building holding a crinkled bag of lunch caught Lena’s eye and smiled. 

“Meeting with Cat?” he asked with a nervous laugh. 

Lena spluttered, unable to answer properly. 

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” he said, free hand hanging by its thumb around a belt loop. “Although, her bark alone could topple an army of men.”

Lena shot him a broad smile, before her tongue ran along the bottom of her front teeth and she tutted. 

“I had a feeling,” she noted. 

“Going up?” he asked, holding the door open for her. 

Lena shook her head. 

“I’m a bit early.”

“Oh.” 

The man’s face fell and he clutched the brown bagged lunch at his side tighter. 

“I have to deliver this for a friend,” he said, raising it. 

In scrunched letters down the side of it, she caught  _ Noonan’s _ , before he dropped his arm and smiled. 

“I’ll see you up there later, then.” He waved, then walked in, quickly out of sight due to the sun’s glare against the darker inside lobby. 

 

It was almost 1:30 and Lena was still wandering aimlessly in the direction of her apartment. She kept telling herself that once she ran into a grocery store, she’d search her address out on Google Maps, then take the most direct route back. Another block of mid-rises gave way to a small park with two food stands and a fountain. It was a popular spot for day workers, dressed in suits and dresses, sitting delicately on bird-poop splattered benches and waist high concrete ledges.

Lena walked around the mass of people, avoiding eye contact like they’d somehow know she was an imposter, when a loud crack sounded from above her. A metal awning from a posh hotel across the street swung down from where it’d be attached three floors up, causing a flurry of scattering feet. In her heels, Lena vaulted over one of the concrete ledges and crouched behind it. A branch from a bush was jabbing into her side, but she couldn’t move. Not a minute later, another crash sounded from the other side of the park, but all Lena could see was a mass of business men and women heading back uptown to their offices. 

She could blame it on the fright or the shock, but Lena knew the reason she hadn’t fled with them. The reason that had become her whole world in the last couple of weeks. A small smile spread over Lena’s face when she heard the loud whoosh of air rush by her. She craned her neck above the wall to see Supergirl surveying the area. Each action that followed was calculated in the order of importance starting with an overturned car blocking the street, then a tree that had caught fire. 

Supergirl was walking towards Lena with a look of determination in her eyes. Except it wasn’t Lena that she was focused on, but the fallen awning. Lena felt her skin turn to ice, despite the direct May sun overhead. Supergirl said something to herself, inaudible to Lena, before she lifted off the ground and flew over to the hotel. Like breaking a potato chip in half, Supergirl broke off a piece of metal hanging precariously by a chunk of concrete and lowered it to join the rest of the rubble on the sidewalk. 

“Is everyone alright?” Lena heard Supergirl ask the doorman to the hotel. 

Lena rose to her feet and walked along the sidewalk until she stood across the street from supergirl.The doorman nodded, before smiling, and expressed his thanks. Supergirl blushed. Her cheeks went pink and she shook her head like she didn’t deserve the admiration. 

“It was nothing,” she replied. 

Her head rose from where it had been looking down at the man and she turned. Turned so she was staring directly at Lena and Lena couldn’t breath or start walking or do anything beside stare back. Maybe it was just well wishing, but Lena could have sworn those pink cheeks turned rosier. It was hard to tell though. Supergirl was four lanes away from her and that suit did nothing but distract Lena from the rest of the woman. With a nod, Supergirl finally looked away from Lena, then took off from the spot, leaving a small crack in the pavement below. 

 

By the time Lena arrived home, it was evident that she’d picked up food from some grocery store. Where, Lena couldn’t remember. It was like driving while lost in thought—she couldn’t single out specific details, but somehow she’d gotten to her destination. 

_ Come on, Lena,  _ she coaxed herself, as she reached up to the top cupboards to put away the flour and bread. 

It wasn’t like her to be this… mixed up over a Super. Before she’d left Metropolis—the last straw before she’d made the decision to move, she’d actually met the man in red and blue. Despite the grudge she held with her family, she’d obliged her company to speak with Lex over a new software they were publishing. She was meeting him at a plant outside of the city where a portion of his local manufacturing took place. She hadn’t even made it inside when the most fatal plant explosion to ever happen in Metropolis went off around her. Superman was there not two minutes later, but it was too late for many. 

Thirty-two dead. One hundred and two injured. Lex was in and out of the hospital in four days, but the same could not be said for some of his employees. The investigator's office came back weeks later with the official report. The explosion was an accident, but a careless accident at that. Lex, as well as the whole Luthor name, was under more scrutiny than ever before. 

“Cut corners again?” Lena asked when she spoke with Lex a week before his hearing.

“Just small ones,” he replied with a smile. 

It made Lena sick. 

“Don’t worry Sis. I didn’t break the law.”

“Not technically,” Lena replied with a bite.

Lex shrugged. 

The whole incident wasn’t just a shrug, though. Luthor Corp stocks had dropped to an all time low. And it wasn’t just the company that took a hit. Lena felt it in the stares she got on the streets and the way her co-workers looked the other way when she passed them in the office. Between her dead relationship with Jack and the destruction of her family name, Lena was done with Metropolis. 

“You’re being rash,” her mother had told her over the phone a week before she’d left. “What’s waiting for you in National city? Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“A new life is, Lillian,” Lena replied. “My future.”

 

A new life was right. But was it less messy? She couldn’t say it was—not even if she closed her eyes and tried real hard. So what was so special about Supergirl—about Kara Danvers? Lena set a carton of juice down on the counter and covered her stomach with both hands. Her fingers laced together and she took three steadying breaths. 

Over the next few hours, whenever her mind would freeze up, Lena would close her eyes and focus on the sounds around her. Supergirl’s eyes—the AC blasting in the corner. Supergirl’s hair blowing amidst the settling dust—the sound of traffic outside. Supergirl’s hands on Lena’s waist—the radio! The radio!

Work was almost a reprieve that night. Lena finally had something to focus on and no thought or memory was going to get between her and a nice slew of red flags. 

 

>Was it really a  **secret** that Mac had like, no leads?< sent 05/25/16 14:14 from 216.127.72.7 to 216.109.112.135

 

_ Delete.  _

 

> **Shit** tt< sent 05/25/16 14:18 from 156.74.181.208 to 54.192.49.52

 

_ Delete. _

 

>Thanks for covering for me at lunch Winn. Another close call.  **Safe** and sound, though.< sent 05/25/16 14:33 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

_ Del—.  _ Lena paused and brought up the string of messages between both IP addresses. Lena supposed this one was okay to leave, but worried about any others that hadn’t set off one of her Supergirl red flags. 

 

>No worries< sent 05/25/16 14:35 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>I owe you one Winn< sent 05/25/16 14:38 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Like a drink tomorrow night?< sent 05/25/16 14:39 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Can’t< sent 05/25/16 14:39 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>What? Fancy date?< sent 05/25/16 14:40 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>1st date ;)< sent 05/25/16 14:42 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Oh. Who is this lucky person?< sent 05/25/16 14:44 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Remember the Brunette that came in yesterday?< sent 05/25/16 14:49 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>No...< sent 05/25/16 14:49 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Really? Tall paralegal. Cat didn’t like her, because ‘her sense of humour was juvenile’< sent 05/25/16 14:50 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>OHH! Her. Damn. Have I mentioned how jealous I am?< sent 05/25/16 14:51 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

>Of her?< sent 05/25/16 14:51 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Of every party involved, Kara.< sent 05/25/16 14:52 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

_ Delete. Delete. Delete.  _

Lena released her finger jammed down on the trackpad and pushed back from her desk. It wasn’t lunch quite yet, but Lena closed the laptop shut anyway and grabbed her purse from the floor. 

Within five minutes, she was down two floors on the accounting floor’s balcony. It was where the daytime employees took their smoke break. Lena leaned up against the round balcony railing and held her arm out over the ledge as if she were twirling a smoke between her fingers. 

Her best friend of three years in high school liked to sneak off campus in 11th grade and would hang out where the smokers lit up. Sometimes Lena would join him and they’d both sit against the curb behind the KFC and stare up at the sun with a longing to be somewhere else. 

“I’m telling my parents tonight,” he’d told her one day during lunch. 

She’d been cleaning the asphalt around her with her shoe, pushing the dirt away from them, when she looked up at him with uncertainty hanging behind her neutral facade. 

“Oh, okay,” she replied. 

She knew his parents wouldn’t be mad or anything. They were good people and they’d understand. But it still made Lena nervous. For years it’d been their secret. He was the only one she’d gotten close to and vice versa. Now she’d have to share that with his family. Lena kicked her legs out and drew out a shaky breath. She was being selfish. This was Landon’s choice, not hers. 

All was well for a few days until Lena came back to school the following Monday. She would spend weekends with the Luthors and was fairly disconnected from everyone at school during that time. So when she got back from another weekend up at the lake, she knew something was off. She was used to getting looks at school—usually unsavory—because she was the rich girl who didn’t act like a rich girl. But these looks were different. They were secret smiles and exchanged smirks. 

“What’s up with them?” Lena asked Landon at lunch. 

They were at the back of the library, working on the card game program they’d started a month before. 

Landon was quiet. 

“What?” Lena asked, swatting at his arm so he’d look up at her from the screen. 

Just then, two boys passed by them, fry grease hanging from their fingers. 

“You don’t need to hide back here anymore, guys,” one said, wagging a chunk of cheeseburger in his hand. 

Lena stood abruptly, and though she was much shorter, got so close that if she strained her neck forward, she could take a bite of his fast food. 

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing, nothing,” the first one replied. 

But the one behind him, the one egging his friend on, added in his own two cents. 

“Nice beard,” he said before turning and snickering. 

Lena wanted to yell at them, but it was the library and it was the only place they could program during lunch. 

“Sit,” Landon said, patting the chair she’d stood from. 

She obliged, but sat with her arms crossed. 

“They’re just teasing you because my parents told Andy’s parents over the weekend and it must have spread.”

“Are you okay?” Lena asked. 

Landon shrugged. 

“I wasn’t exactly stealthy. The only thing keeping them from assuming I was gay, was you.”

“So what? They think I’m gay too?”

Lena tried to lower her voice, but it was boiling over. Her eyes panned back to Landon. He’d returned his attention to the computer and had his bottom lip held tight under his top teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” Lena said. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I just—”

“It’s scary,” Landon replied without looking up. “I know.”

“I’m not, though,” Lena said a bit too rushed. 

“Okay,” Landon replied. 

It wasn’t a disbelieving  _ okay,  _ but the thought still didn’t sit right with her. 

Lena drew back from the balcony railing and ran her hands through her hair. Her tight pony tail had unraveled a bit, leaving wisps of hair to tickle the sides of her face. It was the first time she’d thought about Landon in years. And now that the memory was fresh, she couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. It was like she’d closed off a part of herself since. 

She didn’t need to overthink the next move she made. Her feet carried her back inside, up two floors because she couldn’t wait for the elevator, and into another dark office on the IT floor. This one was barren except for a framed picture of two young girls on the desk and a mouse pad with an old newspaper comic on it. 

Lena drew her phone from her purse and swiped over to the contacts page. She only needed to look down at the number once, before she dialed it into the desk phone. It rang three times, before going to voicemail. 

“Hi! You’ve reached the desk of Cat Grant’s assistant. For Ms. Grant, please end the call and dial (555) 807-6557. For Kara Danvers, please stay on the line and leave a message after the beep.”  _ Beep.  _

Lena slammed the phone down on its cradle quickly and pushed herself away from the desk like she’d catch fire if she stayed too close. With quick, small steps, Lena made her way back to Dilworth’s office and sank down into the chair. 

She spent the rest of her shift in the chair, only rising twice to use the washroom and heat up her lunch. She felt winded like she’d just come in from a long run or spin class. It wasn’t the exhaustion, but the adrenaline. She felt like a little kid who’d snuck onto an amusement park coaster they were too short to ride. 

When 4 am came, Lena had gone through almost 350 red flags and read through the remainder of Kara’s messages from the day. She turned the laptop off and stowed it on the back shelf like always. The stain she had left on her first day was almost indistinguishable now, but Lena couldn’t help but follow it with her eyes as she turned the office’s light off. 

In the elevator, her hand lingered over the the floor numbers, before her index finger rested against 21 and pressed it in until it lit up. The elevator rose slowly instead of descending 15 floors. 

When it opened up six floors up, the first thing Lena noticed was the different layout. It was open and had this glossy texture to it. Unlike IT, there was no front lobby. Many offices with clear glass walls were locked up for the night, while desks in the main area sat in clusters of three or four with black screens. Cat’s office was obvious. It was much larger than any others and had a massive mural of screens behind the front facing desk. 

Lena moved forward, running her hand over all the smooth surfaces. A desk adjacent to Cat’s office caught Lena’s eyes as she stopped in the centre of the room. A flicker of an image—of Supergirl sitting there is her cape and suit—hit Lena suddenly. Her feet began to draw her closer as her hands gripped at her shawl hanging below her dark skirt. She rolled the ends of the sheer material into two small balls and only released when her thigh brushed up against the desk’s siding. 

The desk was shaped like an L with a white chair sitting behind it. Lena dropped her purse and walked around to the other side to sit down. The chair gave way a bit, letting Lena lean back. She spun in it once, pretending for a moment that the office was full of workers. The sun outside was bright letting light flow through the open area. Cat was in her office, head down, eyes fixed on her screen and Kara… Kara was just walking in. Lena tried putting her in civilian clothes—slacks and a white top, but it didn’t look right. Lena’s fingers reached out and danced across closed folders, stacks of mulitcoloured sticky notes, and a small pot of orange flowers until they reached the office phone. 

A little light flickered over the  _ missed calls  _ button, flashing in and out like a beacon. Lena took a deep breath and lowered her hand to press on it, when the sound of a door closing spooked the woman out of the chair. Her head whipped around to trace the sound, but the office was dark and quiet. Grabbing her purse from the floor, Lena shuffled over to the elevator and hit the down button, taking one last glance behind her before stepping in. 


	5. Kara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara has a fun day juggling DEO work and Catco stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, so I'll have the next Lena chapter up soon. I edit these myself, so I try not rush through the process. 
> 
> Also, thanks for everyone's continued support. 
> 
> For those that haven't read it, I definitely recommend Rainbow Rowell's book by the same name. It's where inspiration for this story came from.

Catco was the last place Kara wanted to be in the early hours of the morning, but her DEO work had run late and the prints she’d abandoned in the copy room weren’t going to deliver themselves. Kara found them in the lost & found print bin underneath a couple printer error sheets and a map with directions to a place called Georgio’s off of 2nd. Without another glance around, she made her way back to the balcony and took off into the early morning haze.

“Not going home yet, Supergirl?” she heard Alex say through the com.

“I promised Cat I’d have the final version of the prints made up in—”

Kara dipped low, out of the clouds, and flew by a gas station on the outskirts of town that had the temperature and time displayed.

“—in less than five hours,” she whined.

“East coast jaunt?” Alex asked with a sigh.

Kara nodded, Kara blowing in front of her face.

“Yeah. I think the shop I went by last time opens at 8, so I’ll just hang around until then.”

Kara blinked again against the wind. Normally it didn’t bother her, but she’d almost been awake for 24 hours and hadn’t eaten since 11. Right on cue, Alex spoke once more into her com.

“Get something to eat while you wait for the prints, then get home to bed. I’m heading home myself.”

“Will do Alex. Goodnight.”

It took a moment before the constant thrum of her com went silent. It was just her, a stream of intermittent clouds, and the plains of the midwest below her.

 

It felt weird to be back in the office again, just before nine. Gone were the darkened corners and calming quiet, replaced with the normal bustle and drumming of fingers on keyboards and clicking mouses. Kara paced over to her desk with Cat’s latte and the final prints tucked under her baby-blue cardigan.

Winn was leaning against his desk smiling, when she caught his eye.

“Ready for your date tonight?”

Kara swatted him with the folder, before drawing back quickly, realizing her job heavily relied on the prints staying intact.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for anything right now,” she admitted.

Winn ducked his head down and noticed the exhaustion written all over Kara’s face.

“Late night?”

“There was—Super—things that kept me out until three,” she whispered, “ and then I had to redo the final prints,” she finished, waving the folder.

“Wow. Where did you—”

“I—” Kara paused, then shooed him away with her hand as she heard Cat entering her personal elevator 21 floors below.

“We’ll talk later.”

Winn nodded in consolation and swiveled his desk chair around to sit down.  

“Good morning, Ms. Grant,” Kara greeted her boss a minute later.

She handed the media queen her latte—a half espresso, half chai latte that was the newest fad on Instagram–and took a pile of folders from Cat’s out stretched hands.

“A morning it is, Kira. But a good one?” Ms. Grant waggled her finger. “No. No it is not.”

She waved her hand behind her, asking Kara to follow her to her office.

“I redid the final prints and can hand them off to James when he comes in soon…”

Kara looked over to his office, just now realizing he still wasn’t in yet.

“Oh, those prints,” Cat said, before taking a sip of her latte.

She looked up as if considering whether she was was pleased or not with the drink. She eventually shrugged, then looked back to Kara.

“We won’t be using those. I had Siobhan drop off the new ones on James’ desk already.”

Kara shot a glare in her coworker’s direction, but she was fully immersed in a video on her tablet.

“Is everything alright, Kira?” Cat asked with trepidation.

Kara spun around fast, nearly knocking her glasses from her nose.

“Yes. Of course, Ms. Grant.”  
“Good.” She clasped her hands together and walked around the desk to lean against the front. “When he gets in—where is he anyway?” Cat batted Kara’s sputtering away and continued. “When he gets in, I’ll need you overseeing those new prints. You are my second set of eyes. Don’t let him change anything I wouldn’t.”

Kara nodded slowly. How was she supposed to know what that could be if Cat’s habits changed as much as Kara did, in and out of her Super-suit?

 

At 5:15, Kara flew to the DEO bunker to find out they still hadn’t tracked down the alien they’d been following the night before.

“No leads?” Kara asked, with hands on her waist.  

“Nothing solid.” Alex frowned. “We thought we had him earlier, but we sort of ran into some problems with the NCPD.”

“Oh.” Kara brows knitted together and she released her arms from their Superhero pose. “What happened?”

“Nothing major. Just a little argument with one their detectives.”

Kara nudged Alex’s arm when the agent couldn’t stop shaking her head.

“Is this the same detective that gave you a hassle last time?”

Their downward cast eyes met as a slow smile spread across Alex’s face.

“Maybe.” She covered her mouth with a balled fist and ran it back and forth across her lips trying to hide her reaction.

“You guys really need to stop meeting that way,” Kara joked.

“Well let’s hope we don’t kill each other first.”

“You know what they say about love,” Kara teased. “The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. And you most certainly are not indifferent about this.”

Alex wanted to send a small punch her sister’s direction, when J’onn walked up behind them.

“I’m guessing Alex has informed you on our lack of progress with the untraceable alien?” J’onn asked.

Kara nodded.

“I can get back out there tonight, but without a better game plan, I’m afraid I won’t make much progress.”

J’onn agreed and steered the group over to one of the control panels.

“We have Vasquez devising a new way to track him, but for now, get some rest. I heard about your late night—or should I say morning.”

Kara shrugged.

“It happens sometimes. But hey, I’m an alien. I can run on less sleep sometimes.”

J’onn reached out and put a hand on Kara’s shoulder, leaning closer.

“So am I, but we both need to recharge every once in awhile.”

Kara conceded and they turned their attention back to the control panel.

“Besides our elusive alien, there has also been a spike in corporate theft in Metropolis lately. Usually that wouldn’t concern us, but Superman has informed us that there may be alien tech involved. We were thinking your friend, Winn, could come and assist us. Would he mind?”

Kara chucked.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at all,” she replied.

J’onn nodded, mumbling _good,_ while his mind ran away with other thoughts. When his focus returned to Kara, he cleared his throat and called Alex over.

“Unless you sister has other thoughts, I think it’s safe for you to return home. Maybe even relax for the night.”

Alex agreed wholeheartedly, rubbing Kara’s shoulder for a few seconds over the fabric of her suit. As Kara began to walk out, Alex reached out and grabbed Kara’s wrist.

“Good luck on that date, tonight,” she whispered.

Kara mouthed _thank you_ , then curled her lips into a smile.

“Winn was jealous,” she muttered. “But he won’t be for too long.”

Alex shook her head trying to suppress a laugh growing in her chest.

“Rao, he’ll be on cloud nine,” Kara continued. “I think I’ll hold off telling him tomorrow until after work. I don’t think I could handle a childlike excitement from Winn for eight hours.”

“No. Best to wait,” Alex agreed.

They stepped away from each other, before Kara took off through the back entrance.

 

“Are you sure a dress isn’t too fancy for Korean BBQ?” Kara asked Winn over the phone that night.

He laughed.

“I’m really not the best person to ask, Kara.”

She acquiesced and flopped backwards on her bed. Sometimes she wished she had someone else to talk girl-stuff with her. Alex could be… helpful, sometimes. Though, it was almost better calling Winn or casually mentioning it in conversation while she and Siobhan returned from Noonan’s with Cat’s lunch.

“I think I’ll just wear what I wore to work.” Kara shrugged.

“Just be you,” Winn added, “Without the super strength and flying and stuff.”

Kara chuckled.

“Noted. I’m—hold on, I’m getting a call from Alex.”

“Good luck tonight, Kara.”

Kara thanked him, before answering her sister.

“Hey Alex, maybe you can help me with a wardrobe decision.”

There was a pause on the other line. Kara could hear Vasquez talking with J’ohn in the background, then Alex was speaking.

“Kara, something’s come up.”

Kara lowered the phone to her chest and looked down at the mess she’d made on her bed—all the outfits she’d scrapped, then reconsidered.

“Okay. What do you need?” Kara asked in a completely different tone.

“You know I wouldn’t call if we didn’t need you,” Alex said first.

Kara lowered her head and cradled the cell phone like a baby against her ear.

“I know,” she replied in a low voice. “I’ll be right over.”

In a couple seconds she was gone, work clothes deserted on her bed like the dresses already lying there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm whats-the-difference in Tumblr world. Say hi or laugh at my general dorkiness.


	6. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena travels back to Metropolis to close ties with her old life there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how you picture a scene, but then every time you write it, it turns out different? That's what happened with Lena's dinner with Jack. Anyway, it stands as is and it feels right. Hope it feels right for you too.

Instead of heading downtown, Lena took a taxi to the airport shortly after 2:00 on Friday. Her real estate agent had finally called with the news that a couple had accepted the offer on the apartment and would be moving in at the start of the month. It was the first time she’d traveled back to Metropolis after leaving a month before and the only thing settling her nerves was the airplane scotch she swirled inside one of their plastic cups. 

She nudged her purse further under the seat in front of her as a flight attendant came by, ensuring they were ready for take off. Lena was not a huge fan of flying and though it was statistically safer than most other forms of transportation, she preferred to be in control of the vehicle she was in and maybe not 10,000 feet above the ground. 

The jostling of the plane landing woke Lena up a few hours later. Somewhere over Nevada, she’d fallen asleep and dropped her empty cup. When she looked down however, her tray table has been clipped in on the seat back in front of her and her empty peanut wrapper and cup cleaned up.

She deboarded, blushing slightly as she passed her flight attendant, and mouthed a silent thanks. It’d been awhile since a few shots of scotch had had that much of an effect on her. As she entered the main terminal, people stuck behind her from the plane passed by her with frustrated grunts. She stopped rolling her carry-on suitcase for a moment and stepped to the side to let others pass. 

The place looked just as she had left it a month before, boarding just three gates down. She drew her attention away from the gate and down to her flats and jeans. She’d dressed that afternoon like she was going into work—casual business attire and all. Her fingers traced their way over the necklace hanging around her neck, stopping at the biggest bead that sat low, dropping into the depression above her clavicle. The city might not have changed, but she had. 

 

It was almost ten o’clock when Lena unlocked the door to her old apartment. The place smelled like a Febreeze factory with the little plug-ins taking up residence at an outlet in each room. Lena dropped her purse on counter in the kitchen, then rolled her bag over to the couch. 

She took a peek inside her old bedroom. There was a thin layer of dust that sat atop the dresser she’d left and her comforter that hugged the bedframe looked stale and sold. Lena turned the light back off and moved to the couch in the living room. It would be a comfier sleep since the mattress she’d left was better for decoration than actual human use. 

When she’d moved out of Jack’s months before leaving Metropolis for good, most of the furniture had been his. She felt like she was 21 again, fresh into the world with a living room set from IKEA and mismatched plates and cutlery. She’d given up a lot for him. She might have even believed he was the last major decision she’d ever make. But life had a wanting for chaos and chaos was all too happy to oblige. 

The bedroom in the small apartment only had a small window that faced the alley, but the main room had an astonishingly good view of the city. She was farther out in Metropolis than her new place in National City, but at sunset it was gorgeous. The city was dark now with a spattering of lights, but Lena had seen the sunset so many times, she didn’t have to think too hard for it to return. In the winter, the sun would hit the horizon with so much intensity, it would blind Lena when she came in from work around 4. 

After putting on some sweats and pulling out her toiletries from her suitcase, Lena settled back into the couch with a blanket from the closet and both pillows from the bed. She found herself staring up at the ceiling, catching passing lights when a car’s headlights would reflect off a surface across from her window. She fiddled with the end of her Salt Lake City Olympics blanket, picking at the second  _ 2  _ that was starting to flake off. The trip had been a vacation Lena did not force to the back of her mind. Lionel was so excited back then to please Lena and he took her to see the figure skating alone, because Lex had no interest in seeing  _ girls in frilly tutus skating around a rink.  _ Lena found it wonderful, though. They glided across the ice like they were floating. She begged for lessons when they returned home, but it wasn’t deemed important enough and the lessons never happened.

Lena flipped herself onto her side and stared forward at the empty stand that used to hold her TV—her TV that now sat on a coffee table at her place in National City. It was crazy to think how quickly the idea of home had changed. Despite the ridiculousness of her situation at work, Lena couldn’t think of a reality where she wasn’t Supergirl’s secret accomplice. 

She found herself snickering at the ridiculousness of the title and wondered if maybe she’d drank a little too much on the flight over. After pushing the thought away, she turned back to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She should be feeling grateful that she wasn’t hunched over her desk in Dilworth’s office, but all she could do was picture Kara, flying over National City, maybe even over Lena’s new home.

 

Lena woke earlier than she would have like the next morning. She pawed at the empty space beside her, before realizing she was on the couch in her old apartment and one couldn’t simply snooze the sun. She covered her eyes with one hand, then searched the floor below her for her phone. The charging cable was still attached, so it fought back when she pulled it toward her. 

No notifications. No calls. No texts. 

Lena dropped it onto her lap, then sat up surveying the barren room around her. She’d left just enough furniture to look sort of lived in, but it felt less homey than the IKEA show room she’d bought most of it from.

It struck her quickly that she’d have to get dressed to find breakfast elsewhere since her fridge had nothing but an Arm and Hammer baking soda packet in it. 

Lena left her phone with the ringer volume all the way up, but didn’t hear any notifications until she was returning from the shipping store. She set down the four collapsed boxes against her legs and retrieved her phone from her back pocket. 

“Hello?” she said, turning sideways to avoid people passing by on the sidewalk. 

“Lena,” Jack’s voice said excitedly on the other end. 

A slow smiled crept onto her face. It was nice to hear a familiar voice in a city that seemed so foreign now. 

“Get in okay?” he asked after a pause. 

Lena recalled the hours spent trying to fall asleep and the surreal awareness of being back in Metropolis. 

“Yes,” she replied simply. “I slept most of the flight and it got in late enough to avoid most traffic.” 

“You? Sleeping on a plane?” Jack hummed. “You really have changed.”

Lena didn’t know what to say to that.  _ Yes? Yes I am glad?  _ Yes, she was partially glad—glad that she’d abandoned her naivety.

“Anyway,” Jack continued, “We have a dinner to arrange and I am actually excited to see you and catch up.”

Lena wasn’t sure if she could say the same, but there was definitely still a part of her that yearned to see him, if only just as a glimpse into her past. 

“Of course,” Lena replied, throwing her free hand up. 

A woman walking past ducked and shot Lena a stern glance, before stalking off. Lena winced and moved her things to the side, taking up space against a Chinese grocers that wasn’t open yet. 

“I was thinking… Korean, maybe Chinese…” she said, unsure of herself. 

She blinked slowly. What a mess. 

“Yeah, I could go for Korean, maybe. There’s a new Korean fusion place that opened up last month near our old apartment.”

_ Our old apartment?  _ Did that mean he’d moved or would he always refer to the place as  _ their old place?  _

“That sounds great,” Lena said, trying to sound ten times more put together than she was. 

She laughed awkwardly, then pulled the phone away from her face to take a couple of deep breaths. When she put it back to her hear, Jack was halfway through reading off the address. 

“Maybe just text me it,” Lena supplied. 

Jack stopped and agreed. 

“Yeah, I guess that would be easier.”

Lena nodded, still standing in the grocery entrance, but didn’t say another word. 

“Well, 6:30 okay? I have to get back to the office to check on something after.”

“Yeah. 6:30 is fine,” Lena replied. 

She didn’t question why he needed to be back there on a Saturday—she wasn’t with him anymore and it wasn’t her job to worry. 

“Alright then. I’ll see you tonight, then,” Jack said. “Bye, Lena.”

“Bye,” Lena replied, before lowering the phone and letting the call end on its own. 

Why were conversations with him so tiring? Lena picked her boxes back up and merged with the pedestrians walking along the sidewalk. None seemed to sense her distress, only huffed when they’d smack their leg on a piece of cardboard. 

 

It didn’t take long to pack up the rest of her kitchen things in the first box. Most appliances she’d left already had their own boxes with the original packing materials—Lena had made the right decision about keeping them. 

The final items to pack away, the small trinkets and photos that decorated the tiny apartment, would go in the other boxes, and the furniture she would leave for the movers. They were set to come on Monday and the new tenants on Wednesday. Then the place wouldn’t be hers anymore. She’d be free from all ties to Metropolis. Free from her family, free from her place... free from Jack?

It hadn’t been all bad. The two had been close for many years and only in the final year had it began to degrade—fast like an isotope with a short half life. They’d met in grad school and despite their varying fields, decided that together, they would make an impact. 

They had outlandish goals for a couple of 22-year-olds, but the world hadn’t met a team like Lena Luthor and Jack Spheer. Initially, their start-up was a joint company, split 50-50 between the two. But then there was the hurdle of money. Jack had some and Lena—who’d completely broke it off from her family—had close to none. While still contributing, she spent her days at a real job, one with yearly income, and her nights in Jack’s garage assisting with the latest prototype. He was the engineering genius and she, the mastermind programmer. Neither was any good without the other. 

Lena set down her roll of tape on top of the second box and swayed over to the couch, sagging into the centre where it had begun to sink in. One moment, she was lying back, watching a small yellow spider crawl across the ceiling and the next, she was sideways, eyes focusing in on curve of her couch. 

“Fuzz,” she hissed, pushing herself up to check the time. 

She had 25 minutes until she was supposed to meet Jack. Her hair was a mess of waves mixed into strands of straight hair and her outfit consisted of sweatpants and a baggy shirt—two items that weren’t going to cut it for a place Jack would pick out. 

Lena tossed her clothes around her suitcase, picking stuff up from the bottom and depositing it on top like the spin cycle on her washing machine. She’d been sensible and brought at least one skirt and blouse. The latter was a bit wrinkled, but Lena didn’t have time to try and fix it. She didn’t bother closing the blinds or going to the bedroom, instead changing behind the kitchen counter into her evening outfit. She slipped on the flats she’d brought with her, then left the apartment with keys in hand. 

Her nap left no time for public transit, so Lena cabbed it straight to the restaurant, keeping her eyes focused on her lap and not the familiar buildings that passed as they got closer. The Korean place was tiny, situated beside an independent bank and underneath a 6-story apartment complex. 

Lena collected herself, before paying the driver and stepping out of the cab. She could see Jack from outside, facing away from the street at a small table by the window. For a moment, Lena considered texting him that she just had too much packing to do and wouldn’t make it. But then her mother’s voice—God, her mother’s voice—berated her over the thought and suddenly Lena was opening the front door to restaurant. 

The door dinged as she opened it and closed slowly behind her, letting some of the early evening heat into the cool space. A statue Lena didn’t recognize greeted her on the other side and held a sign that said  _ please wait to be seated.  _ Lena hesitated, before walking around it and joining Jack at his table. 

He’d been lost in thought and didn’t see her until she’d set her purse down on the corner of the chair. 

“Please,” he said, standing and pointing to the chair across from him. 

Lena forced a small smile and sat down, tucking her skirt beneath her as she did. When she looked up, his eyes were scuttering around, glancing between her face and her blouse and then the server that had snuck up behind them. 

“Hello,” the woman said, handing them both a menu. 

Jack waved the woman down, but took a menu for Lena, handing it to her when she hadn’t moved.

“Don’t you want to—” Lena extended the menu to him.

“I already know what I want,” he offered, sheepishly. 

He looked to the wall beside them that had pictures of another restaurant and what she guessed were pictures of the owners. 

“You know them?” she asked. 

He shook his head, inflating his cheeks, before releasing a slow breath. 

“Nah,” he said. “I get take away a lot from here. I always order number 14.”

Lena nodded, then glanced down at her menu, happy for the distraction. 

 

Filling the time was easy at first. She asked him questions about some dishes, and he tried to convince her to get a drink.  _ It’s on me,  _ he said when Lena turned him down a second time. Finally she obliged and the server came forward to write down their order. 

“Straight?” the woman clarified when Lena only asked for a glass of whiskey. 

“Yes,” Jack answered for her with a smile that felt like the first year of their relationship—a mix of pride and unencumbered adoration for her—something that wouldn’t sit right anymore. 

When the server retreated to the kitchen, Jack finally breached the harder topics, or at least the ones that scared Lena the most. 

“How’re you settling in?” he asked, tapping his finger against his water glass. 

The condensation running down the side stopped at his finger before it appeared to absorb right into his skin. 

“Huh?” Lena asked, looking up.

“How’s National City? I hear there’s quite a lot of high-tech industry there. Find anything else besides that media company that’s caught your interest?”

Lena shook her head. 

“I was definitely going to look for a new job when I got there, but I don’t know. The structure is sort of changing and I’ve actually been doing more purposeful stuff.”

“Oh?” Jack asked, a higher inflection in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Lena replied steadfast. 

“That’s great, then. Catco may be a frivolous magazine, but they have influence and can definitely take you new places.”

Lena bit at her lip. There was no use in raising her voice here over one dinner. 

“And the apartment. Is it nice?”

Lena hummed. “It’s not as big, but the neighbourhood is really nice and not too loud.”

The server walked back to their table then, and handed Jack a glass of wine and Lena her whiskey. She made the deliberate action of stirring her drink with its small red straw, then taking a long sip, downing half of it in one swig. 

“Wow,” Jack said, slightly alarmed. 

“Decent,” Lena noted, lapping her tongue against the roof of her mouth like she had considered its texture. In reality it was barely a step above the airplane’s brand, but she didn’t have to reveal that. 

“So are you still at our old place?” Lena asked Jack this time.

“Uh,” he let out an awkward laugh, looking to her left and right like the young guy eating alone behind them would supply him the answer. 

“I actually moved,” he replied. “Closer to the office is all.”

Lena lifted her brows, humming. 

“And how’s that project you were stuck on coming along?”

Jack pulled at the collar to his button up as his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down. 

“We’ve actually been approved for some trials.”

“Really?” Lena tried not to sound so surprised, but the alcohol had her feeling cocky. 

“There’s been an increase in funding, so we’ve made some ground.”

“We?” 

The food came then, two plates of bulgogi and a mixture of vegetables. Jack’s plate had a heaping of kimchi, while Lena’s had a small pile of fries. It was an odd combination, but looked delicious enough to take it easy on Jack for a bit. Lena reveled in the looks she’d earned as she finished her fries and meat before touching on the vegetables. 

“Did you find a new League group?” Jack asked when he’d cleared most of his plate.  

Lena was sipping her second glass of whiskey when she looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“I don’t really do that anymore,” she replied. 

“You don’t do a lot of stuff anymore.”

It came out less like he was judging and more like he pitied her. 

“My new group of friends plays more traditional games,” she informed him. “Games like Monopoly and charades and Trivial Pursuit. 

_ And lying,  _ she thought. 

“Oh, that’s great.”

“Yeah. I work with them at Catco.”

“On the evening shift?” he asked. 

_ Crap.  _

“The daytime, but I’m always going in during the day. You know how I can never step away from work.”

Jack nodded with a chuckle. 

“Oh, I know. You seem to forget how hard it used to be to drag you out of the garage and get you to go to sleep some nights.”

The comment earned Jack a true, unfiltered smile. However, it was short lived as the lies floated back to the surface. Lena felt her beef rising back up from her stomach leaving an acidic taste in her mouth. 

“So tell me about them?” Jack said, sliding his plate to the side and leaning onto the table with his elbows. 

His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, revealing some of the scars he’d collected working over the benchtop. One particular one that was shaped like a bow-and-arrow had either faded or maybe Lena had forgotten where it had been, because the skin on the underside of his wrist was clear.

“Well,” she said, tearing herself away from his forearms. “Three of them work at Catco and the others I met through them. They’re sweet and funny and they care a lot about each other—about me.”

Jack leaned back in his chair with a sigh. 

“Wow, that sounds amazing. I’m really happy for you,” he said, before taking Lena’s free hand in his own. 

Lena couldn’t help but chew aggressively on the onion in her mouth as she glanced down at his hand on top of hers. 

“Who’s your favourite?” he asked. 

“My favourite?” Lena asked, incredulously. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Your best friend?”

“I don’t know.” Flashes of Supergirl’s face staring back at her in the park hit Lena suddenly. She’d dug herself this deep, so why not. “Probably Kara,” she answered with half-assed assurance.

The image of the girl in blue and red made Lena’s chest decompress for the first time that night as she shared a secret little smile with herself. 

“Well I’m glad you’ve met people,” he said, finally releasing her hand. 

“Yeah. They’re all really special.” Lena shook her head, finding a point beyond Jack on the street behind him to think for a moment. “I’m actually really glad I found them—”

“One second,” he said putting a pause on Lena’s reverie. 

He reached over Lena’s shoulder to hand the server his card. She caught his hand before he could reach the woman however, and waved him down. 

“We’re splitting it,” she said with a smile. 

But when she looked up, there was something dark in Jack’s eyes. 

“We’re not splitting it,” he simmered, hand gripping the card hard on the table. 

Lena blinked rapidly a few times, not wanting to look up at the server to see her reaction. For all the times Jack was forgetful and distant, he was never so brash and threatening. Lena shrunk in her chair and motioned him to give the server the card. Once the woman had left, he turned back to Lena like his outburst had never happened. 

“It’s not very late,” he began, smiling with a soft glint in his eyes. “Drinks?”

Lena controlled her breathing, getting it steady enough to reply. On the outside she was the poster child for calm and content, but on the inside, she had a million questions brewing, starting with, W _ hat the actual fuck just happened? _

Lena finally shook her head with feigned disappointment. 

“I have some packing to finish and I don’t want to be rushing around tomorrow to finish.”

Jack shrugged. 

“It’s fine. That’s why you’re here I guess.”

“Yes.”

Lena stood then, collecting her purse from the chair back. She took a final sip of her whiskey, downing the rest, before stepping around the statue and opening the dinging door onto the Metropolis sunset.

On the street, she turned and saw Jack wave from window. She mentally catalogued the image—knowing it might be the last time she saw him—then waved back. 

She’d walked the area enough to know how to get back to her old apartment without a second thought. As she crossed a final intersection before the train, Lena noticed her old bagel place had closed and the dry cleaners had replaced their out-dated storefront. She sighed and walked into the new corner store that she knew would not be selling her favourite cream cheese and pumpernickel bagel. 

“Hi,” Lena said, glancing up at the older woman working the register. 

The lady smiled back, then looked down at the bottle in Lena’s hand and hid her frown poorly. 

“Just that?” she asked. 

Lena nodded. 

Maybe it was because she already smelled like alcohol, but the woman shot her another disapproving look before scanning the bottle and reading out the cost. 

“49.85,” she said. 

Lena swiped her card on the reader, then grabbed the bottle, encased in its brown paper bag. 

 

“Kara, Kara, Kara,” Lena said back at her old apartment. 

She kept swiping back and forth on the contact, tempting herself to delete it. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if she did. It was public information to all Catco employees, but in her inebriated state, it felt more dramatic. 

Lena set the bottle down on the coffee table and turned the cap until she was sure it was tight enough. She felt numb and it wasn’t just the two glasses of whiskey and however much of the good stuff she’d sipped so far. 

_ When did I become this lovesick teenager?  _ she asked herself. She pushed up from the couch and walked over to the counter where her laptop was charging. After remembering both her computer and airline account password, Lena scrolled through the list of flights leaving the next day. It was another two hundred dollars, but the thought of staying in Metropolis for another two nights had the potential of spurring a full blown anxiety attack. 

After hitting agree to the terms and conditions, Lena auto-filled her card information, then moved onto the next page to hit confirm. Her phone, still on ring, dinged when the new flight information email had arrived. 

“Perfect,” she said, slurring the first syllable a bit. 

She looked around at the nearly finished boxes and sighed. Her flight didn’t leave until noon. She’d have plenty of time. 

At 8:30 at night, Lena flopped down on her old couch in her old apartment and fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued interest!


	7. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena's back to work at Catco, but changes are happening—some for the better and some not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my reviewers. You guys are amazing and actually make me blush. Thank you for your continued support.

>Are you nervous about Wednesday?< sent 05/30/16 15:01 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Why would I be nervous< sent 05/30/16 15:25 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Lucy… and James both coming over to Alex’s for dinner< sent 05/30/16 15:28 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>You seriously don’t think I’m past that?< sent 05/30/16 15:29 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>If by ‘that’ you mean the James and Lucy, then  **hell** effin no < sent 05/30/16 15:31 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Ugh< sent 05/30/16 15:31 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>So that’s a no to being over it?< sent 05/30/16 15:32 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>It’s complicated< sent 05/30/16 15:33 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Oh, I don’t doubt it is, unless you’re into the whole  **polyamory** thing < sent 05/30/16 15:33 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Winnnnn< sent 05/30/16 15:34 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>I have somethings to finish up for Cat before duty calls< sent 05/30/16 15:36 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>I thought the missing  **alien** was handled? < sent 05/30/16 15:37 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Sort of...I need to sneak out of here early, because apparently he’s only going to talk to  **Supergirl** < sent 05/30/16 15:38 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>How’s working with  **Superman** going ;) < sent 05/30/16 15:39 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Heh. Better get going Kara. Don’t want to leave Cat hanging.< sent 05/30/16 15:32 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

Lena shook her head. Had those two decided that they wanted to get caught today? They may as well have rented a plane to write it in the sky. Lena highlighted the whole conversation and permanently deleted it from the server. 

Lena went back to the main red flags page and scrolled down the list, scanning what she’d missed during her quick jaunt over to Metropolis. There were two more red flags attached to the Superfriends’ IPs.

 

>Hey Kara< sent 05/30/16 10:52 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Want to grab lunch today? I wanted to talk with you about something.< sent 05/30/16 10:52 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>I had a feeling. You seemed off the other day.< sent 05/30/16 10:54 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>It’s not really work related, but I figured I needed to tell you< sent 05/30/16 10:56 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Thanks James. Maybe after work… No… How about tomorrow morning if something doesn’t come up?< sent 05/30/16 10:58 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>Sorry. I just have so many Cat things and  **super** things on my plate right now. I could just throw something into  **space** < sent 05/30/16 10:59 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>I’m sure you could Kara< sent 05/30/16 11:00 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Ha. Ha. But no seriously. I would join you if I could< sent 05/30/16 11:03 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>Okay. Okay. Just promise me you’ll eat more than a box of donuts for lunch today?< sent 05/30/16 11:05 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>I didn’t want to waste them.< sent 05/30/16 11:05 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>And the cupcakes on Thursday?< sent 05/30/16 11:06 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Fine. I’ll grab some Chinese takeaway later.< sent 05/30/16 11:12 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>You don’t deserve that body, Kara.< sent 05/30/16 11:13 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>:P< sent 05/30/16 11:14 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

_ That body?  _ Lena had never been up close enough to appreciate the muscles that must ripple beneath the suit. She wondered how the suit felt. Was it rough? Thick? What were to happen if Supergirl needed to save her? She’d most likely have to brace herself against the woman’s biceps. 

Lena shook her head, then focused back on her work laptop. She highlighted James and Kara’s conversation, then deleted it. 

For the remaining time before lunch, Lena half-focused on the regular red flags and half on the copy of  _ WarGames  _ that Shaun had left for her on top of the old TV. A young Matthew Broderick turned away from his old AMSAI 8080 computer and shouted  _ Seattle,  _ before typing it into the computer. Lena couldn’t help but mouth along to the dialogue, smiling when she realized she was able to spurt it off like she had the script in front of her. 

It wasn’t until the credits rolled that Lena realized she was leaving twenty minutes later for lunch than usual. She had no set time for her lunch break, but liked to keep to a routine; it made her days go by faster. 

When she walked into Wrap Zone five minutes later, the night shift girl perked up, welcoming Lena. 

“Same wrap as usual?” she asked, pulling a spinach tortilla down from the shelf above her. 

Lena nodded. When she’d filled the wrap up with all of Lena’s favourite ingredients, Lena stopped her from ringing up her order just yet. 

“Can I schedule a delivery for later?” she asked the girl, spinning her employee-badge keychain around her finger. 

“Yes. Definitely.”

Lena curled her lips in, biting down on her gums. 

“Excellent.” 

She read off a list of ingredients as the girl wrote them down on a pre-set form. 

“You want to add extra chicken?” she asked Lena. 

“Yes, extra,” she confirmed, gripping her purse with both hands. 

“And where and when is it being delivered?”

Lena blushed. 

“Catco Media at 11:30 for Kara Danvers,” she said. 

A small smile crept onto the girl’s face and she nodded in understanding. 

“Of course.”

“And…” Lena hesitated. “Can you like tell it was like a Catco order or something?” Lena finished, whirling her hand around, rambling. 

“I’ll say she won a free wrap?”

“Free wraps for a week—well the work week,” Lena added. 

The girl exchanged a knowing glance with Lena then nodded again, placing a cap on the pen. 

“So that’s one vegetarian wrap for right now... And three wraps for delivery later.”

“Four act—”

“—Three,” the girl interrupted, shooting Lena a crafty smirk. 

Lena chuckled, eyes shifting down to her feet. 

“Yes, three wraps for later. Thanks.”

The girl rang Lena up, then placed the order form on a board behind the counter.

 

The next evening, there was a new 80s movie waiting for Lena on top of the TV— _ Tron _ . Lena flipped over the remastered DVD case in her hands, before bringing it over to Dilworth’s desk and setting it down for later. 

She had a new email from Shaun waiting in her inbox, leaving her total emails at four. Lena clicked on it, reading over the small message carefully. Below the main text was an attached PDF, outlining how to add your own red flagged words. Lena chuckled, then went back up to Shaun’s message. One of the news editors—Snapper Carr—had been called into HR again and Shaun had a special assignment for Lena. Scan his outgoings emails with modified curse words and send a warning email if they were plentiful. 

_ Modified curse words?  _ Lena immediately set to work, adding  _ sh!t  _ and  _ f!ck.  _ But then after adding every derivative with an exclamation point, Lena was out. She rarely used real curse words, never mind the creative alternatives people like Snapper Carr used to get around monitoring systems. 

Lena opened an internet browser and googled modified curse words, but most links were suggestions on how to create your own fake-swears in front of children or block them on your phone. Lena exited out of the window with a groan. She considered messaging Shaun, but felt silly. She used to hate the incompetent employees at her last job that couldn’t figure out problems on their own. 

Reluctantly, Lena opened up all of Snapper’s emails from the past week and began to sift through. When she saw a strange word that could fit Shaun’s idea of a modified curse word, she highlighted it and copied it over to the new red flags list. 

The man was ruthless. Lena inwardly thanked every deity she didn’t really believe in that Shaun was the laid back, flip-flop wearing, hippie boss. 

 

>J. Jordan, 

 

The last junior reporter you sent me couldn’t even tell their  _ there’s  _ from their  _ their’s _ . I need at least a semi-competent junior reporter to replace them by the end of next week. Just send anyone to me by Friday. I don’t care if they’re a f8cking paperboy off the street. Just send someone that’s gone through 3rd grade English. God dam. 

 

Snapper< sent 05/26/16 12:23 from 54.192.19.9 to 98.203.140.45 

 

Lena logged  _ f8cking  _ and  _ dam,  _ but hesitated when she went to scroll to the next email. It was stupid. It was a total abuse of power, not to mention the paper trail she did not want leading back to her. 

_ Fuck it,  _ she thought. She opened the email up in a separate window, then hit  _ Ctrl-P.   _

 

She was late eating lunch again after making it through all 96 minutes of  _ Tron.  _ Shaun walked into the empty office space as she was finishing her quinoa sandwich and sat down across the round table from her. 

That looks… healthy,” Shaun said, sinking into the plastic black chair. 

Lena wiped at her mouth with a leftover napkin from Wrap Zone and nodded. 

“And very good,” she quipped. 

Shaun tilted his head back and forth. 

“Maybe,” he said with a unsure frown. “Anyway!”

He dropped a packet on the table and slid it over to Lena. 

“The big-wiggs up top have decided that they want you doing more than just reading red flags and watching movies all night.”

“Uh—”

Shaun gave her a goofy smile. 

“I’m kidding. I didn’t mention the movies. That’s our secret, yeah?”

Lena nodded, still alarmed. 

“Anywho. They have finally decided on a new screening software and want you to install it when it comes in. That,” he said, pointing to the packet of paper, “is the manual for the software. It’s pretty user-friendly, so it’s really just a reference.”

Shaun looked around and drummed his fingers on the chair’s matching black arm rest. 

“Between me and you, I don’t think they trust it. They’ve asked for you to continue to read over the red flags and compare them with whatever the software has scanned as well—see if it’s doing a good job.”

Lena replied with a slight nod. 

“Now I think that’s ridiculous. Reading over everything twice?” 

Shaun held his arms out, and with a raised voice, asked if Lena agreed as well. All she could do was shrug. 

“Well,” he said, flipping back one of the long pieces of his blonde hair that always fell in front of his face, “I’ve sent in a request for you get an assistant, that way you can focus on the software and the assistant can read over the red flags.”

Lena smiled, but inside her stomach was spiraling like she’d just downed half a bottle of the airplane whiskey.  

“So?” Shaun asked, leaning forward.

“That sounds good,” Lena lied, taking another sip of her kombucha. 

“Great. Great!” 

Shaun stood abruptly and tapped his hand on the table rapidly like there was still something on his mind. 

“Uhh, yeah. Umm.” He backed out towards the door. “What else was I gonna say?” he asked himself. 

“Oh!” He paused at the matte doors that led to the elevator. “Accounting says your cheque should be in soon, so check in with them soon. Friday maybe?”

“Yep. I can do that,” Lena replied, the worry already starting to affect her tone. 

She swallowed hard and forced a reluctant smile. 

“Excellent. You’re amazing, Lena,” he continued, before turning and closing the door. 

When she heard the elevator doors close, Lena released a laboured sigh and sank into her chair. They were hiring an assistant. An assistant that would read over her red flag emails. All of Supergirl’s red flagged messages. She struggled to close the top on her glass tupperware then tossed back the rest of her drink. Her time was out and she needed to do something. Anything.

Without cleaning up the rest of her lunch, she scurried into Dilworth’s office and dropped into the office chair, causing it to roll back a bit from the force. She quickly found Winn’s email, then migrated back to her own. If she couldn’t warn Supergirl directly, maybe she could send the message across that they were being watched.  

 

>Dear Winn Schott, 

 

It has come to the attention of Catco Media that you have been using your company IP for emails and IMs that do not follow the company’s internet regulations. Please refrain from using obscene language and/or language that could be classified as risque. 

 

This is a warning. You will be contacted again if you continue to infringe upon the company’s regulations. 

 

Sincerely, 

The Catco Media IT team<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh duh! Thanks for reading guys.


	8. Kara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new email in Winn's inbox, a dinner party at Alex's apartment, and more drama in Kara's fruitless dating life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is such a slow burn, but I promise they will be meeting soon(ish).

“I was actually going to show you something this morning, before I got distracted,” Winn said across the small round table from Kara. 

Kara set down her pair of chopsticks and leaned forward to read Winn’s outstretched phone. 

“Here.” He handed it to her, then got back to his lunch—a small bowl of pho. 

Her lips mouthed along to the words, eyes going wide when she reached the end of the email. 

“Winn!” she said in a harsh whisper. 

She slid the phone back to him, then picked her chopsticks back up to swirl a clump of noodles around them. 

“What?” he fake yelled back, not succeeding at hiding the grin plastered across his face. 

He slurped at his lunch, before pocketing the phone. 

“How is this funny? You’re going to get in trouble,” Kara said. 

Winn looked down, shaking his head. 

“Don’t worry, Kara. I promise I won’t. They had these automated systems at my last company. Heck! I worked on them,” he said, before looking back down in search of any last noodles left in the broth. 

“They scan our messages looking for keywords—”

“—Like shit?” Kara whispered. 

It might have been loud enough for Kara, but Winn could barely hear amidst the crowded lunch spot. 

“Yeah. Like shit.” Winn smiled. “But these systems are usually after corporate espionage or treason and such. In the end, no one cares that Tim from low-paying job three hundred and eighty five swears sometimes.”

“Oh.” Kara poked at the noodles left in her large bowl.

“You okay?” Winn asked a minute later when he’d called it quits on his own lunch. 

Kara looked up suddenly and smiled. 

“Of course! Beyond the normal of course.”

Winn nodded, but didn’t quite believe her. 

“You usually swallow large bowls whole. You’re really not going to finish that?”

Kara shrugged. 

“Why do you want it?” 

She made to scooch the bowl across the table when Winn held his hand out, stopping her. 

“No, no. I’m fine. One small bowl is more than enough for me.” Winn looked up and saw the uncertainty in Kara’s eyes again. “Here.”

Winn clicked his phone on again, lighting up the email from the IT department. 

“I promise you, this will be fun.”

He pushed Kara’s bowl to the side, then swung his chair beside hers. 

“Dear Catco Media IT Team,” he read aloud as he typed. “I am so fucking sorry that I have violated the damn internet regulations. What a fucking idiot I was. I promise this shit won’t happen again. Your favourite ass-bag, Winn Schott.”

“Winn,” Kara whined from beside him. 

“And send,” he said laughing. 

Kara didn’t have time to stop him, still shocked over his reply. 

“It’s done,” Winn said, holding his arms up like he was now surrendering to whatever Kara was going to do next. 

“You really sent it?” Kara asked, deadpanned. 

“Yes,” Winn replied, trying to control his laughing. 

Some people around them were eyeing them at his outburst. Kara stood and dragged him out of the restaurant. When they were outside and walking back to Catco, Kara punched him lightly in the arm. 

“If you’re fired and I only have James left at Catco… so help me Rao.”

“You’re forgetting about Siobhan,” he pointed out.

Kara grumbled. 

“You like her,” Winn poked at Kara’s arm. 

“She’s the enemy, Winn.”

“Well, if she wasn’t?”

Kara whipped her hair around, looking out towards the street. 

“I’m going to take that as a conceit.”

Kara gave him the silent treatment for almost a block, before she broke. 

“You’re the one that dated her,” she said suddenly, spinning on him. 

Winn nodded, hands in his slack’s pockets. 

“But I’m not now,” he said careening his head. 

The sight of Noonan’s ahead of them made Kara sigh with relief.

“I need to pick up some weird healthy green juice for Cat, so I’ll see you up there later.”

“Okay, okay.” Winn smirked, before parting ways with Kara. 

 

Winn was at one of the DEO’s central desks when she flew in later, just before seven in the evening. 

“You’re going to be late for dinner,” she said, sneaking up behind him. 

It made him jump back, losing his balance in the rolling chair. He nearly fell to the ground, barely grabbing the desk’s corner to stable himself. 

“Hey,” he said pointing at her. “Uncalled for.”

Kara smirked, tongue darting out of her mouth for a moment. 

“I may be wrong,” Winn continued, “but I’m pretty sure that Supersuit isn’t proper dinner attire. Alex is going to scold you if you show up in a suit that smells like… burnt hot dogs?”

He tilted his head to the side, before pushing back from the desk. The computer dinged as it turned off and the screen went black. 

“It’s fryer oil,” she answered for him. 

His face contorted into all possible configurations of horror. 

“Winn. I’m an alien. It didn’t hurt.”

“I know,” he replied, face still disgusted. “But it just sounds horrible.”

Kara smiled, before flying over the railing to where J’onn was standing in front of the main screens. 

“You’re free to go to your dinner Supergirl,” he said without turning.

Kara was all smiles.

“Great,” she said, giving him a quick hug from behind.

She turned and flew back over to Winn who had his bag over one shoulder, heading for the main exit.

“Make any progress with Superman?” she asked. 

Winn blushed, but shook his head. 

“No,  _ we _ didn’t really make any progress on narrowing down this corporate thief. We know they’re only after the tech companies, but you know how abundant those are in this country. And the cases that have actually been reported pop up all over the map. How was Superhero duty?”

Kara shrugged, curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Same old hot-shot alien thinking his takeover plan is novel.”

“You ready for tonight?” he asked, changing the subject. 

“I have to change first,” Kara said motioning to her suit. 

Winn shook his head. 

“I know you’re avoiding the subject, but I’m going to let it pass this once, because I’m going to be late.”

They stepped up to the front entrance, disguised as a talent agency office. 

“Want a ride over?” she asked, grinning. 

“Ha.” Winn flinched, side stepping her. “No thank you. I’ve had enough flying for one day.”

The comment went almost noticed, when Kara doubled back on him with a finger raised. 

“How much flying have you done today?”

“I gotta go,” Winn said, pushing the door open. 

Kara hung back, breathing out a sigh as a thought circled her brain. Without anymore hesitation, she flew back down the hall and shot out her side entrance, eyes trained on the sun, low in the sky. 

 

Somehow Kara was the last to arrive at Alex’s place for dinner and she was only two minutes late. 

“Sorry, Alex,” she said, pushing the door closed behind her. “I had to shower thanks to some nasty hot dog grease that I fl—”

Kara turned and noticed an extra body in the room.    
“Maggie!” Kara exchanged a quick glance with Alex, before turning to the unexpected guest. 

“Yes, you remember my friend, Maggie,” Alex said. 

Kara nodded slowly, concealing the teasing smile playing at her lips. 

“Hot dog grease?” Maggie asked from behind Alex. “What has Cat got you doing now?”   
The others in the room passed a secretive smile around like the wave in a crowd. 

“Well thank you for showering, because I have a stir fry on and those two just wouldn’t match,” Alex spoke up, putting an end to the awkward silence.

 

Just passed 7:30, all six of them were sitting around Alex’s kitchen table. It wasn’t often that every seat was taken. James and Lucy sat at the ends, while Kara and Winn took one side and Alex and Maggie took the other. Kara kept trying to catch her sister’s eye, but her attention wouldn’t leave the brunette beside her, head tucked down with a broad smile. 

“This is delicious,” James spoke up. 

Lucy agreed, looking over to Alex. When the elder sister didn’t look up immediately, Kara kicked her lightly under the table. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said. “I got the recipe online.”

“Still,” Kara said, dipping her head. “We all know I’d burn it somehow.”

Lucy laughed, agreeing. When the others moved onto Kara’s cooking mishaps as well, Kara kept one eye on her sister. She was laughing with the others, but it was half-assed. She took one hand out from under the table and used her fork to slip some of the noodles and beef into her mouth. It was still steaming hot, but she didn’t react at all. Kara frowned, biting down on her gums, when Winn spoke up from beside her. 

“Alex told me that you got called away before your date last week.”

Kara didn’t respond, spooning food into her mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he continued. 

“It happens,” Kara said matter-of-factly. 

Winn nodded, pushing the topic aside. He didn’t inquire whether the paralegal had messaged her again or whether Kara had tried to set up another outing. 

At the same time, Kara was still distracted by her sister and Maggie. When all attention at veered away from her, including Winn’s, Kara dipped her glasses lower on her nose and looked down past the table. After a couple seconds, she replaced her glasses back on her nose, and smiled fondly, before digging back into her food. 

 

Winn was still at his desk when Kara came back from a Thai place uptown with Cat’s lunch at 11. 

“Kira,” Cat called from her office. 

She had a slew of papers covering her desk like an office-themed mosaic. Kara wondered how she was able to keep it all organized. 

“Did you make sure they removed all the peanuts?”

Kara looked up and set the food on Cat’s desk.    
“From your peanut and curry pork?”

“Yes,” Cat bit out, impassive. 

“Of course.” Kara didn’t dare drop her smile, but there was still some skepticism in her voice. 

“Good… You can go now.”

Kara scurried out of the office, rounding her own desk to sit down. She pulled her chair in and logged in. Her messenger was program was still up. 

 

>Just in, Cat has ordered a peanut-less peanut and curry pork.<

 

>XD<

>What did you get? An egg-drop soup without egg?<

 

>Oh, i didn’t get anything<

 

>Consider me shocked<

 

>I have a wrap being delivered shortly<

 

>... Who are you and what have you done with Kara Danvers?<

 

>Winn! I didn’t order it. I won some free wraps for a week... I don’t know. Alex probably entered me in some contest as a joke.<

 

>I didn’t know they did that<

>Hey, Kara?<

 

>yeah?<

 

>I’m sorry for bringing up the paralegal over dinner. Not a dinner topic.<

 

>It’s fine. I was distracted.<

 

>I’ve noticed<

 

>It’s nothing<

 

>Ok… So does that mean that Supergirl has given up dating, because that would be a tragedy for the every single human and alien here<

 

>No. I haven’t given up just yet :P<

 

>So if I may ask, what happened? If she turned you down after, she’s a ass-bag<

 

>Winn!<

 

>Sorry<

 

>I don’t mind. I sent her another message the next day, but she didn’t reply, so I just…I didn’t want to press<

 

>I’m sorry<

 

>It’s okay<

 

>Really?<

 

>Totally. I actually have my eyes on someone else<

 

>Kara Elizabeth Danvers!<

 

>??<

 

>Who is she?<

 

>I saw her this morning. She was... Striking. I think she might be in accounting or maybe even from one of the company’s on contract with Catco.<

 

>So she’s a mystery woman?<

 

>You make it sound so scandalous, Winn<

 

>I’m going to call you two Mystara<

 

>I’m going to tell Alex about your trip to Metropolis with Superman<

 

>.... -_- ….<

 

>Back to work, Winn<

 

>Yes ma’am<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the amazing support and comments.


	9. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena receives Winn's email and reads through the latest IMs. She is troubled at first, but a short talk with the Wrap Zone girl sways her next decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write a crazier response to Winn's email, but it didn't fit Lena in the scene.

Lena ignored the little white icon sitting above the her email shortcut when she logged onto her laptop on Thursday night. It was Schrödinger's cat and in Lena’s case, not knowing whether the cat was there or not was better than having a definitive answer. At least until she opened it, Winn had both heeded her warning and ignored it. 

In the last couple weeks, the number of red flags had decreased considerably. She found herself scrolling through them when thoughts of Supergirl would occupy her immediate conscious. In rare cases, she’d have to backtrack through the messages in fear she’d read right over a compromising email or IM. 

When the sheer number of curse words had muddled Lena’s brain, she searched out Kara’s IP and scanned through some of her messages from that day. There were no Supergirl red flags, but—whether she’d admit it aloud—Kara’s quips with Winn and engaging discussions with James were her reprieves from the loneliness she liked to pretend did not consume her.

 

>... Who are you and what have you done with Kara Danvers?< sent 06/2/16 11:18 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

Lena chuckled, immediately hiding her face from the screen. She rubbed at her eyes and looked down at the computer clock, anticipating her break already. The want for her bed was stronger today than it usually was this late in the week, but sleepless afternoons could strain even the great Lena Luthor. The grad student that once went a week with only 10 hours of sleep simply couldn’t function like that anymore. 

Lena continued to read Kara’s long IM exchange with Winn from that day. They hadn’t mentioned or even nodded at Kara’s Supergirl alter-ego, so maybe, just maybe, Winn had gotten the message. 

 

>Totally. I actually have my eyes on someone else< sent 06/2/16 11:23 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

Lena tried to look down to Winn’s next message, but there, still going strong, was the evil monster that lived inside Lena. It reminded her of Lex and her mother, and on rare occasions, Lena herself. It pitted her against others for stupid reasons and didn’t listen to logic or compassion. Lena swallowed hard, hushing the monster, but even Winn’s annunciation of Kara’s full name couldn’t quiet it for long. 

Who was this new woman and how had Kara moved on so fast from the last one—the paralegal? She’d never actually met Kara, but her horrible invasion of privacy had tricked Lena into thinking she knew this woman. Who was Kara Danvers? There was something to be said about her selfless heroics, but no act, no matter how much someone may try, was truly selfless. Lena believed this to her core. As a little girl, her adoptive parents always supplied a selfless reason for their actions, but there was always a hidden agenda. 

Lena tried to think back to any interactions between Kara Danvers and people other than her friends and boss, but she had to admit, she’d never read them. A tainted memory of Jack rose to the surface; he was smiling at one of Lena’s coworkers, praising Lena’s work. In the next moment though, when they’d left, he was all scowls. Lena knew well what it looked like when someone feigned kindness for their own benefit. 

As Lena continued to read, she bit back the monster’s attempt to rise within her. It was painful and threatened tears in Lena’s eyes. She blamed it on her exhaustion—and what day of the month was it…the 2nd—she could blame it on her period soon if she really needed to. No one—especially guys—could argue with that. 

When she reached the end of their IM exchange, Lena silently thanked her lucky stars that she wouldn’t have to visit accounting any time soon. She knew if there was a face to this new woman, she’d truly break. She pictured who Kara would be with: accomplished, tall, thin, and  _ striking.  _ What kind of descriptor was that anyway? You strike a match, receive a strike in baseball, go on strike with a picket sign. She didn’t want to be striking anyway.

It was in her silent rage, that her perfectionist habit clicked on the email shortcut to get rid of the white icon. There, in a few short sentences, was Winn’s reply. 

 

Dear Catco Media IT Team,

 

I am so fucking sorry that I have violated the damn internet regulations. What a fucking idiot I was. I promise this shit won’t happen again.

 

Your favourite ass-bag, 

Winn Schott

 

Lena read it over again and was surprisingly calm. She laughed at the irony that his email would be showing up on her red flags list. She hit the reply button, but froze when her hands hovered over the keyboard. 

The real question she should have asked, instead of laughing, was why he’d replied like that. Winn didn’t appear to be the rebellious rule-breaker type from his messages, so why had he sent it? 

It was a joke. 

The email was a joke to him. He obviously assumed nothing would happen—he was correct—and had fun with it. Lena wanted to reply with a teeth shattering, witty retort, but the over-analyzing voice in the back of her mind that usually kept her sharp, spoke up. 

If she replied in jest, she’d be exposing herself. Her previous email was just formal enough to cut out all personal voice, but what she wanted to reply with now...It was like walking into their office holding a giant sign above her head that said, ‘I’ve been reading your messages, invading your privacy, and could possibly expose your Supergirl secret.’

There was a quieter voice inside that was also whispering how she’d never be friends with them if she sent the email as well. That explanation was selfish, though, and made Lena feel foolish.  

 

At midnight, Lena was out the door of Catco, walking two blocks to her usual wraps place. When she’d first started at Catco, there was something haunting about walking the streets alone at night. Now, the thrill and trepidation had lost its novelty. She swung her purse back and forth under her arm and stepped over two uneven pieces of sidewalk without looking down. She had every bit of the route—every small detail—mapped out in the back of her mind. This was why, as she walked by a 5-story brick building a block from Wrap Zone, she noticed a new sign on the building’s front. It was taped to the inside of the front glass doors, facing the street, with a message in all caps. 

 

NO ENTRY EXCEPT FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

 

Lena kept walking, but looked back twice at the older office building. She was still distracted when the open door chimed to the small restaurant. 

“Afternoon,” the girl with the black braids said to Lena. 

“Likewise,” Lena replied. 

The girl laughed lightly. It was their little joke, shared between night-shifters. 

“If I come here, where do you go for lunch?” Lena asked as the girl began to prepare her regular vegetarian wrap. 

“There’s actually a taco place around the corner that’s open until 2, but maybe I shouldn’t tell you that.”

Lena chuckled deep. 

“I think my business here is safe. I’m not a huge fan of tacos.”

“Really?” The girl’s jaw dropped as she stared incredulously at Lena. 

“You’re looking at me like I kick puppies for fun.”

The girl shook her head, dropping the shocked countenance. 

“So if you go to the taco place, where do the taco place employees eat? Surely, not here.”

The girl finished rolling her wrap, closing it up with ease and slipped it into a bag. 

“They don’t need to eat...Robots,” she explained with a straight face. 

Lena smiled, but found it wavering as she handed the girl her credit card. 

“Long night?” the girl asked, sliding it through the reader. 

Lena studied her, taking the card back without focusing on where she was putting it in her wallet. Before she could stop herself, she was nodding. The girl replied with a sad smile, but didn’t return to the kitchen immediately. Lena, apparently, took this as a sign to start talking again. 

“I think I may have overestimated someone.”

The girl pulled off her sterile gloves and tossed them in the trash behind the counter. 

“Overestimated, huh?”

Lena shrugged. “I think. I’m afraid I have, anyway.”

“A friend?”

Lena slid her bottom teeth left and right against the tops ones, feeling the grinding sensation in her jaw. 

“I don’t know.”

“Those are the hardest relationships, eh?” the girl began. “The ones that aren’t quite solid friendships and the ones that are too close to be acquaintances.”

“Yeah,” Lena replied, stewing over the words. 

“Why do you think our talks are so easy?” she asked.

Lena licked her top lip, looking up and to the right. She’d never really evaluated her and the wrap girl’s relationship.

“What’s my name?” the girl asked. 

Lena looked down at her shirt, but there was no tag. 

“I don’t wear it when i do nights. Too many shifty people I don’t need knowing my name,” she supplied.

Lena looked down at her feet and mumbled, “Well that would explain why I don’t know it.”

The girl smiled, but she was shaking her head like she knew something Lena didn’t. 

“I suppose we can’t bet on it now, but I have a strong feeling you wouldn’t know it, even if I did wear it. You also never asked.”

“Well…” She had Lena there. “Do you know mine?” Lena asked. 

“Lena Luthor,” she replied without pause.

“Wow,” Lena muttered. “So why is this relationship easy for you then? You know so much about me, really.”

The girl spread her hands over the counter that separated them.

“I pretend this is a bartop. I’m like your late night bartender who serves healthy wraps instead of alcohol. Besides,” she laughed, “I’m pretty sure I’m not old enough to serve alcohol.”

Lena hummed. 

“Thank you, then,” Lena said when the weight of the bag against her leg reminded her of why she’d come down here in the first place. 

The girl waved from behind her counter and Lena turned to leave. She opened the door, heard the familiar chime she’d become accustomed to, and let it close behind her. Though her nightly wrap runs left her more time during the day to do other things, she was pretty sure that food wasn’t the only reason she showed up most nights. 

 

The girl’s words stuck with Lena through the rest of her night shift and hung in the air of the small copy room Lena had only used once before. She found a box of empty envelopes and slid Snapper Carr’s printed email inside—the fold lines old enough to keep their shape after she’d refolded it to fit inside properly.

_ Kara,  _ the front of the envelope read. Lena dropped it into top of the assistant’s desk after her shift and didn’t look back to reconsider her decision. Who was Lena to judge Kara from some IMs? She knew if the roles were reversed, she’d like to be given the benefit of the doubt. 

 

The next night, her second Friday, Lena trudged up to the 15th floor. It was one thing to pass by people heading home from work, but another to see them getting dressed up for dinners out and pre-drinking before a night of clubbing and bar-hopping. Shaun was waiting in the lobby for her with a bright smile. 

“Lena,” he said, hopping down from the vacated assistant’s desk. 

At first she thought, once again, that he’d caught onto one of the various lines she’d crossed. But the smile was too genuine and Shaun simply didn’t have the capacity to feign one that wide. 

“Hey Shaun,” she replied. 

Her informal greeting sounded too foreign coming out of her mouth. She paused, hearing the tinge of an accent in her voice—picked up from classmates of overseas countries during her boarding school years. 

“Thank goodness it’s Friday, right?” he said way too enthralled for a Friday night inside a dimly lit hall in Catco.

“Yes. Thank goodness,” Lena replied, not hiding her obvious displeasure. 

He overlooked it though, and followed her into the main office space. 

“The big-wigs up top are funding a three day business trip for training. I’m not saying it’s going to be fun or anything,” he chuckled, “but it’s a break from this graveyard and all the events are during daylight hours.”

Lena hesitated at Dilworth’s office, a hand lingering on the door frame. 

“A business trip?”

“Yeah!” he said. “Star City too. An IT personnel’s fantasy.”

Lena shook her head with a smile. 

“It’s what I dream about at night,” she replied. 

Shaun hesitated at her comment, crossed arms bouncing up and down against his chest like they contained too much energy to sit still. 

“Anyway. I’ll leave you to your red flags and such. But your travel package should come by mail either today or tomorrow. And when you’re back we can start interviews for an assistant.”

He held his arm out for her to high-five him. She complied, hitting her hand against his. It was very light though, and felt like she was ETing it with her whole hand. Shaun pulled back with a nervous grin.

“Alright then. Last night before the weekend. You got this!”

With that he turned and left her office with a much quicker pace than usual. 

 

Just as he had said, Lena came home the following morning to a large packet sitting in her mail box. She carried it up, along with a pizza coupon and some bills and set it on her kitchen countertop. Kara and Winn had no exchanged messages that day. She’d heard of an attack in metropolis in passing and assumed Kara’s sick day had been spent in another city.

Lena picked through the growing pile of mail on her counter and chucked some of the ad pages in the recycling. 

When she picked the travel package up, the sticky end pulled an envelope with it, causing the smaller one to drop to the tile. She reached down and picked it up, noticing her full name and address easily viewable in the small window on the front. Lena wondered why she’d had to pick it up in person when they could have just mailed it to her. It was probably for the better, though. She had plans for that first cheque and was going to spoil herself this weekend for the first time in months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Get ready for another Kara chapter coming soon!


	10. Kara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara is back with more concern over the IT emails, a rising enemy, and a new love for stress toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a stretch of procrastination, here's chapter 10. A big thanks for those following this and commenting with helpful notes and encouraging words. You guys inspire my little Canadian heart.

Another email from IT was sitting in Winn’s inbox on Saturday. The three of them—Winn, James, and Kara—were huddled around Winn’s desk for other Super reasons when Winn navigated over to the email thread. 

“Dear Winn Schott,” he read with a hint of feigned formality in his voice. “You are receiving this email, because you have infringed on Catco Media’s internet regulations following a warning. IP addresses revealed that the obscene language was exchanged with three other employees: James Olsen, Jackson Dirksen, and Kara Danvers—”

At the mention of her name, Kara gripped the back of Winn’s chair, but he continued to read with  an air of disregard. 

“We would like to avoid a formal discussion with all parties involved, as long as this final warning is heeded. Sincerely, The Catco Media IT Team.”

Winn harrumphed, moving off of his email window. 

“Well,” he said, exasperated. “That was rude… And… And did you hear that hint of blackmail?”

Kara pushed his chair aside and opened the email backup. 

“Winn!” 

Kara scrolled up to the sender and then back over the short text. 

“They have my name in there.”

“Mine, too,” James added like he was an afterthought. 

“Look, look,” Winn said, holding his hands up in defense. “I’ll figure this out. I still think there is a 75% chance that it’s still some automated message, but if you want, I can trace the sender.”

Kara seemed appeased for now at least and backed off as Winn began typing with heightened focus. 

“You’ll be okay, Kara. Do you know how many emails and messages Catco employees send on the daily. There’s no way they have the manpower to read through everything. I mean, it’s not our fault that Winn’s a sailor over here,” James said. 

Kara snorted. 

“I hope so.”

Just then, Winn spun back around, facing away from his screen that now had an array of new windows open. 

“I couldn’t get a name on the IP since Catco IT emails are sourced back to the common servers. However...” He turned back around. “Catco has many, many servers, so I was able to determine the origin of this particular server.”

He hit enter with a proud smirk on his face. 

“This server is on the 15th floor, reserved for…” he continued to read. “The IT department.”

James laughed from behind him, chuckles low and loud. 

“Shut up, okay?” Winn whined. 

James shook his head, trying to settle himself. 

“I’m sorry, Winn, but that doesn’t exactly narrow it down at all.”

Winn frowned, then looked back down at his screen, pulling up a new window. 

“Wait, wait,” he said, holding up a single finger while the other hand navigated the mouse. “The IT department numbers their servers. Look!” 

He hovered his finger over the screen where it read  _ IT.34.  _

“I traced an email I got from Saad when he installed the operating system last year and his email came from IT 34. This one, the warning, was just IT.”

Kara and James were still waiting for Winn’s punchline. 

“It means,” he drawled, rolling his eyes, “that it must be someone sort of important if they have the first IT server.”

James shrugged, but Kara leaned in over Winn’s shoulder. 

“It can’t actually,” she corrected. 

This caused Winn to turn to her, ready to add a rebuttal, when Kara continued. 

“The heads of IT are on floor 19. So maybe not the heads of the department, but a manager maybe?”

Winn worked off her information, skipping over the fact that Kara knew more about Catco than he did. 

“Yes, yes. We can assume it’s not—” Winn clicked over to the employee database. “—Shaun Medley. But it could be someone like Angela Shin, the second-in-line manager for security or Gordon Dilworth, third-in-line to Shaun.”

James coughed from behind them with his hand raised like a child in class. 

“We’re forgetting the time stamp, though.”

He leaned forward, taking control of the computer from the other two. 

“The email was sent just past 2 am. What manager is here that late on a Friday night?”

Kara deflated, pouting, while Winn shrugged. 

“A workaholic,” he suggested. 

Kara sighed very loud on purpose and stalked away from the desk. 

“Winn. James.”

They turned to face her. 

“We do have a new pressing matter to attend to.”

They both looked sheepish as Winn locked his computer and stood from the rolling chair. 

“WInn, I’m okay with this as long as you promise to stop swearing so much on your work computer,” Kara laughed, not fully over the ridiculousness of the situation nor how much it had escalated. 

Winn nodded, even though it looked like he wanted to say more. James put a hand on his friend’s shoulder as the two followed Kara into James’ corner office. 

“Now,” Kara said, closing the double doors behind them. “The DEO is doing their own research on it, but I think it would be helpful if we also looked into this. You said you’d made some progress with Superman?” Kara asked Winn. 

Winn rubbed his nose with his fist and stuttered for a moment, before replying. 

“Yeah—Yes, we have. We believe we’ve narrowed down which break-ins and thefts are due to the same group and which ones are just a coincidence.”

“Group?” James asked. 

“There’s some witnesses that supplied Superman with information and those witnesses identified at least three different people.”

“And have any been spotted here?”

Winn shook his head. 

“Well, I guess we know where to start then.”

 

Kara stalked into Catco the following Monday, straightening the collar of her shirt as Winn intercepted her entrance. 

“Kara,” he warned. 

She failed to unclench her fists, but managed to not break her glasses when she adjusted them properly on her nose. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Kara,” Winn said, afraid to offer any physical comfort in the form of an arm touch or shoulder rub. 

Kara shrugged him off still, before turning on him in a demeanor too standoff-ish for Kara Danvers. 

“You’re getting Superman here tomorrow,” she whispered, holding a finger at Winn’s face. “Don’t take no for an answer.”

“Of course not. I won’t… Take no for an answer.” Winn fumbled the words around his head, before putting on a serious expression as Kara looked like she might unleash her heat vision on him any second now. 

They were standing at her desk now, so Kara shooed him away, lying that she heard Cat ranting from her office. She wasn’t back from lunch late—she still had twelve minutes—but Cat wasn’t one to fiddle over insignificant details like her assistant’s allotted lunch break. 

She barely had twenty minutes to herself to proof read the invites for an upcoming fundraiser, when a figure stepped up to her desk, casting a shadow on her planner. 

“Hi,” he said like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say anything at all. 

Kara looked up to see maybe a delivery boy or an employee applicant directed to the wrong place, when she saw a tall man with a dark beard and sharp features. 

“Hi,” Kara replied, her stony countenance from before falling away quickly. 

“You’re Kara?” he guessed, thumbing at her nameplate that was actually misspelled and had been since she’d asked Cat for one earlier that year. 

“I am,” she smiled back with a coquettish undertone. 

“Listen, I know she’s probably not here right now,” he began to mutter. 

“Sorry?” Kara asked, standing up so they were almost face to face—they would have been if he wasn’t so tall. 

“You know—the night shift—I mean,” he laughed nervously. “I know her IT shift isn’t until tonight, but I was hoping to leave some stuff I found from my old apartment with you. I don’t really want to stop by her place in case she’s sleeping and… Well last time we spoke, it didn’t well.”

He held out a small shoebox with a picture of red Men’s running shoes on the side. 

“She mentioned you the last time we spoke. You and Winn. I’m Jack by the way… the ex.”

He stepped back waiting for an angry or timid reaction, but Kara continued to stand there like she was caught between street vendors at the mall that she couldn’t walk away from. 

“Just, take her things. I—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She must not have mentioned me. Why would you?” he asked, expecting no answer. 

Kara nodded, accepting the box, but was still unsure as to what she was holding. She lifted the lid to find some trinkets and a pair of earbuds with little penguins on them. When she went to ask who they were for exactly, the man was already over by the elevators, stepping by Siobhan as she strutted over to the other desk. 

Kara huffed before setting the box on her desk. 

“Who was that?” the other assistant asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No one,” Kara answered, still watching the elevator that had already closed. 

Siobhan nodded slowly, before glancing down at Kara’s desk. 

“New man?” she asked, peering over at the shoebox.  

Kara shook her head. 

“No. No men right now. No women. No one.”

She sat down and placed the box on the floor beside her. It was her luck that the only person that had really caught her attention lately was nameless and so far, had not returned to her floor. Maybe she didn’t even work at Catco. 

“Well that’s too bad,” Siobhan replied, sending Kara a sort of sad smile. 

 

Although Cat was a tough boss, she was never unfair. If there was nothing left to do, she was more than okay with sending Kara home before 5 o’clock. That Monday however, Kara was still at her desk as Winn packed up his shoulder bag. 

“Cat have you here late for that fundraiser?” he asked, stopping by her desk, drumming his fingers against the top. 

Kara shook her head. 

“Okay… Well, I’m heading home. Let me know if any you-know-what business comes up.”

Kara nodded with a smile. 

“Will do,” she replied. 

Winn didn’t move there, watching as Kara fiddled with the broken side of her phone case. 

“Kara?”

“Hmm?” she mumbled, looking up. 

“You want to get take away?”

Kara glanced down at her watch. It was just past 6. Cat was still shut in her office and hadn’t noticed her assistant’s continued presence yet. 

“Do you know when the night shift comes in?” she asked. 

“Like the janitors?” Winn clarified. 

“No, not the janitors.” Kara felt the side of the box at her feet. “The IT department.”

Winn covered his mouth and let out a squeal. 

“You–you’re going to confront whoever sent that email, aren’t you?” he asked.

He barely waited a second before jumping in again. 

“That’s genius, Kara. Of course they’re night shift.”

Winn set his bag down, leaning it against a desk leg, and went to round her desk, when Kara shook her head.

“No, no,” she corrected him. 

She blinked a few times. _Maybe…_ _Maybe?_ She chose her next words carefully. 

“No, actually. Someone left a box for an IT night shift employee and now I feel obligated to deliver it. And sort of curious.”

Winn grimaced, confused. 

“Okay,” he drawled, picking his bag back up. “Well let me know if it ends in a fun scavenger hunt.”

Kara pursed her lips and shot him a deadpan stare. 

“I will Winn. Have a fun night of take away and competitive cooking shows.”

“Very funny, kara. Ha!” Winn fake laughed, lacking much spirit. “Bye.”

When he turned back at the elevators, she waved a quick goodbye to her friend. After he was gone, Kara looked back to the clock on her phone. Her battery was low and she hadn’t brought her charger. Who would know when the night shift came in? She toyed with the home button, before going back to her tablet and opening her last game of Solitaire. 

 

After two failed games and a win, Kara closed the tablet and put the shoebox back on her desk. As she nudged the lid off with her pointer finger, a new thought suddenly struck her.  _ What if there was another Kara at Catco?  _ This guy could have been looking for someone else, but she’d gone and betrayed common sense over his sexy accent and trim looks.

Her hand hesitated, considering putting the lid back when she noticed a small translucent blue cube with rough edges. It was obviously made from a rudimentary 3D printer and consisted of a small circuit board inside and two metal balls on the surface that were connected via wires. Kara placed the pads of her fingers over them, expecting something to happen, but she only felt the cool metal underneath. 

For the next ten minutes, Kara fiddled with the trinket. She dared not pull it apart in case it didn’t fit back together properly and even googled the main features, but reached no conclusions. She gave up on it, setting it down to look examine the cute earbuds when the cube lit up for a second. Kara’s eyes darted back to it and she took in a shaky breath. Knowing she was almost alone in the office now, she lowered her glasses and used her X-ray vision to inspect the parts inside of the circuit board, but found nothing explosive or concerning. She picked it up again and found the some water residue from her drink left on the table. With little thought, she raised the cube to her mouth and pressed her tongue against the metal balls. It lit up, bright blue. Kara smiled as she continued to hold it there.  _ How nifty.  _

“Kira,” an unmistakable voice said from above her. 

“Hi, Miss Gwant.” She pulled the cube off her tongue and smiled. 

“I’d ask, but it’s really none of my business,” she said, separating her last words with extended pauses between them. 

“I was just—”

“As I said… Don’t want to know,” she replied tersely.

Kara nodded, resigned. 

“I’m heading out for the night and I was going to ask why you haven’t yet, but you’re obviously busy with whatever this is,” she said, gesturing to the space around Kara.  

“I’m waiting for the night shift. I need to deliver this,” she replied, pushing on the bridge of her glasses. 

“So naturally, you put your tongue on it?”

Kara stuttered, but Miss Grant held a hand out, silencing her. 

“Miss Grant,” Kara began again in a more controlled tone. “Do you know what time the night shift starts?”

Cat pulled her lips to one side and teetered her head back and forth.

“Um, I think 8 maybe. Nine? I don’t know. It’s been awhile since I looked up to care.”

Kara nodded, avoiding her flippant gaze. 

“Goodnight, Kara,” Miss Grant said after a moment in a softer tone. “Don’t wait too long for whatever this is.” 

She had a knowing look about her face. 

“She’s rather strange and has a worse fashion sense than you,” she continued with a sigh. 

Kara opened her mouth to speak, but Cat just smiled and turned around sharply. 

“Goodnight, then, Miss Grant.”

Kara received no further response as Cat’s private elevator arrived. She turned around after stepping in and smirked in no particular direction, before the doors closed.

 

Just shy of eight o’clock, Kara took the elevator down to the 15th floor with her purse in hand. She loitered in the empty 15ht floor lobby, before pushing on the front matte doors and walking into an open space, sparsely decorated and quite bland, opposed to her own floor. The lights were dimmed so low that if Kara were human, she wouldn’t have been able make out the nameplates beside someone of the closed doors. 

Her phone was dead now and the wall clock hanging above the fridge in the breakroom was at least three hours off, so Kara sat down at a round table just inside the long room. Should she leave the box here with a note? No. She couldn’t do that. She didn’t even have a name. Just vague details that felt too intimate for a stranger to know. 

When her nerves got the best of her, Kara high tailed it out of the quiet room and back to the lobby. A clock on the assistant’s desk read 8:15. Maybe they didn’t get in until 9 after all. Kara sighed and tucked the box back under her arm. 

_ Not tonight, then,  _ she thought, before hitting the up button beside the elevators. 

 

After another questionable attempt on Tuesday—she’d come back to Catco after dinner and had to explain to Rueben at the front desk why she wanted to know when the night crew came in—Kara decided to give up on finding the owner of the shoebox for now. 

There were no new thefts in National City since Monday morning, but Superman had a lead in Metropolis and would fill Kara in at lunch. The shoebox sat inside one of her desk drawers, but she’d kept the cube out the day before, playing it whenever her brain would get distracted by extraneous stimuli. 

Today, she’d arrived earlier than usual after a car chase had ended rather anticlimactically. Most days she would have accompanied Alex back to the DEO, but today she was going for breakfast with  _ Maggie  _ and promised Kara that they’d meet up another day. 

Kara had Cat’s healthy kale smoothie ready early, sitting on the corner of her desk, and kept blowing her freeze breath on it to keep it chilled. Boredom once again got the best of her and she opened up her desk drawer, taking out the box. She thumbed over the tiny rubbery penguins, before picking out a round stress ball toy. When her fingers dug into its squishy sides, it changed from a bold red to a light blue. 

_ Thermochromic,  _ Kara thought.  _ Cool.  _

She sat it on her desk and pushed her whole hand into it, watching as it spread out like a puddle, bulges rising between her fingers. When she pulled up, the ball began to take shape again as her blue hand print transitioned back to red.  

“Alex busy again last night?” Winn called over to her, setting his bag and coffee down at his own desk. 

Kara looked up surprised. The small  _ o  _ her mouth formed quickly closed and changed to a broad smile. She vaguely felt the weight of her glasses against her cheeks, before her expression faded. 

“ _ I _ was busy,” Kara replied. “You missed some action last night.”

She waggled her eyebrows, but Winn knew what she was really referring to.

“You didn’t call me in?” He frowned. 

“They were another transfiguring alien that formed the identity of my mother,” Kara replied, shaking her head. 

“They?” Winn asked. 

Kara shrugged. “We ended up locking my birth mother up before I left so I don’t actually know if it was he or a she or neither.”

Winn cleared his throat. 

“Your mom, huh?”

Kara nodded with a sly smile. “Alex and Vasquez’s too when they confronted them.”

“Well, thanks for not calling me then.”

He chuckled and pressed the power button on his desktop, booting it up.

“Why did you ask about Alex?” Kara inquired after Winn had sat down and begun to spin in his chair idly.

“You’re little toy there. I recognize its properties. I doubt you’d find it on the shelves of a Toys ‘R’ Us.” 

“Oh?” Kara asked, pitch rising.

“Yeah,” Winn chuckled. “Definitely, considering it’s pretty toxic if ingested.” 

Kara dropped it quickly, despite the infinitesimal chance that a human toxin would have any effect on her.

“Where’d you get it, if I may ask,” he replied in a goofy, low voice. 

“It was in the box,” Kara replied. 

“ _ The  _ box?”

Kara felt herself blush.  _ Why was she blushing? _

“Yeah. I couldn’t find its owner. There’s no woman from the IT department that comes in at night. I’ve been checking.”

“You’ve been  _ checking, _ ” Winn repeated, tutting. 

“Yes!” 

Kara tucked the stress ball away in the top drawer of her desk and cleared her throat to signal she was done with this discussion.

“She’s a woman then?” Winn teased. 

“You’re a child,” Kara fired back, looking back at her tablet that wasn’t even on. 

“I still don’t understand why you have that box.” 

He swung his legs back and forth as his shoes made sandpaper sounds against the carpet. Kara didn’t believe his comment warranted a reply, so she took the stress ball back out and played with it in her lap. When Cat came in thirty minutes later, a new metal puzzle box had joined the cube and stress ball next to the phone on her desk. She guarded them with a sideways glance, before standing up to hand Cat her nearly cold smoothie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have the next chapter written already (ready for me to proof-read) and Lena may or may not have visited Kara's floor again.


	11. Lena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena comes back to some changes after her conference in Star City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to combine two chapters, which means this one is longer than usual. Hope that's not a problem ;)

Lena took the red-eye back to National City on Tuesday night and tried to stay awake in the cab back from the airport. She needed to readjust to her night shift sleep schedule, but the last three days at the conference were so very long. Lena had the driver drop her off a block away from her apartment so she could grab an energy shot from the corner store. She hoped that maybe a walk in the cool night air would also help her stay awake—at least until at least 4 am. Then she’d give in to her exhaustion and pass out. 

Sleep came very quick once she’d let it. Before the first signs of morning came, Lena was passed out in front of her TV with her phone wedged under her stomach. A bogus phone call woke her just after 1 pm and though she was still tired, she couldn’t relax. She didn’t need to be at Catco to think about the Supergirl problem nor Metropolis to taste the bitterness that came with Jack’s name now. 

Star City had been a nice reprieve. A woman named Janet had told her that the conference wasn’t usually this exciting or busy, but a cancellation from the earlier one in Metropolis had caused an influx of attendees. Lena spent her mornings at the buffet mooching off the Catco dime, attending the required talks in the afternoon, and getting a wee bit drunk at night. 

She had even allowed her thoughts to stray from Supergirl and her piercing eyes and the way her blue suit wove its way around her arm muscles… She had. An upper manager from Star City Innovations had talked her up for a good hour on Monday night and even shot her a smile during his keynote speech the next day. But there was something missing in his wide smile, dark hair, and faint French accent. Their shared dialogue was too smooth—he reminded Lena of a black Jack Spheer. A younger one that still had a certain spark of energy, not yet quelled by all the rules and regulations of the business. 

That night at Catco, Lena was too preoccupied setting up the new software to check up on the Supergirl flags she’d missed over the last two days. Before she knew it, her work—not of the Supergirl kind—had made a significant dent in her lunch break. She closed the laptop screen immediately and went to the break room fridge to retrieve the conference leftovers she’d smuggled in her suitcase. 

It was quiet, as usual. One of the long rods of light had been changed by maintenance since she’d been gone and was no longer flickering. Lena watched it with a steady eye as she chewed on her 3rd mini sandwich, expecting it to falter. When all that remained was her plastic bottle of Super-Fruit juice, Lena stood and dumped the messy cling-wrap in the trash. She ambled around the break room and out into the main hall. She’d never walked to the other end of the floor. There were cubicles by the far windows and smaller private offices like Dilworth’s against the middle wall that split the floor in two. Lena walked by them letting her hand graze over the placards outside each door. Most were locked, but some were left open so Lena could look inside and take in the personal possessions—the occasional blinking of a computer in sleep mode.  

Before she knew it, she’d made it back to the front by the main doors that led to the elevators. She wasn’t sure what she was planning to do, but with eight minutes left of her lunch break, Lena pushed the matte doors open and walked over to the elevators and hit the up button. 

The 21st floor looked the same as it had before. The memory of the shuffling sound she’d heard last time kept her on edge as she wandered over to Kara’s desk. It was neat and organized with a stack of papers in a basket to the side and a power cable taped down to the top so it wouldn’t slither back through its hole in the desk. 

Her gaze had floated from the phone and over to the miniature blue pastel stapler, when Lena recognized something on the desk—s _ ome things  _ on the desk. Lena quirked her head to the side and reached over Kara’s pen holder to pick the first one up. She held it to her mouth, then stuck her tongue out to its two metal balls, watching as the little blue light lit up. 

“Where did she get these?” she muttered to herself, setting the trinket down and picking the next up. 

The last time she’d seen any of these, she was in university—or was it her first apartment in Metropolis? It’d been a long time. Lena could place her early circuitboard work anywhere and the flimsy plastic cube she’d design in SolidWorks in her professor’s computer lab. 

Lena considered putting the toys back, but then, with an anger that was only directed at herself, she pocketed the cube and the puzzle game. The latter clattered like metal chains in her pocket—its four solved pieces knocking against each other.  

If she was going to set this ball rolling—throw a wrench into their simple one-direction communication—she was going to do it with her own flourish. She opened the first desk drawer and ripped a sticky off of a neon coloured pack. Beside the stress ball that still sat untouched, she grabbed a pen out of its holder and scribbled a short message in gel pen ink. It was bright blue against the neon yellow sticky note in small loopy writing. She stuck the back of the pen in her mouth as she pressed the sticky side against the remaining toy, then capped the pen and replaced it, leaving it poking out of the stack on purpose. 

“Thank you, Kara,” she said quietly to the empty office. 

A small, sly grin made its way onto her lips as she strutted away from the desk and over to the elevators. All that was missing was a badass soundtrack to play over her walk and well, a crowd of onlookers, but she wasn’t picky. 

 

Surprisingly, no new Supergirl flags had popped up during her absence, but there was still a good handful of cursing and obscene language. Lena cringed at a long a winded email between two friends over one of their abusive exes. There was only so many references to male organs she could read in one sitting, so she opened up the IP search window and scrolled through Kara’s latest messages. 

A few were mundane exchanges with IPs she hadn’t come to memorize. A couple IM dialogues came up between her and James over work and one with Winn from that morning. She clicked on that one and scrolled to the bottom to read the first message. 

 

>Are you going to tell me about the box?< sent 06/8/16 9:02 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

_ The box? _

 

>Winnnnn. There’s nothing else to know.< sent 06/8/16 9:12 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Please! Some random guy comes in off the street and asks you to deliver a mysterious box and you’re telling me there’s nothing else to know?< sent 06/8/16 9:14 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Yea.< sent 06/8/16 9:15 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Kara!< sent 06/8/16 9:17 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>You make it sound weirder than it is. The guy wasn’t some random guy… I think he said he was her ex and didn’t want to deliver it in person.< sent 06/8/16 9:20 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>So he asked Cat Grant’s assistant to deliver it to IT?< sent 06/8/16 9:21 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

_ Jack?  _ Lena scrolled up farther, skipping the friends’ back and forth banter. 

 

>Maybe I just look like a nice person, Winn. Maybe that’s why he asked me to deliver it and not you or Siobhan or Trevor, the stoner from the mail room.< sent 06/8/16 9:35 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Still think it’s weird he came all the way up here to get it delivered to the 15th floor.< sent 06/8/16 9:38 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Well that’s what happened, so just drop it.< sent 06/8/16 9:42 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Fine, but if I see you putting that Lego block in your mouth again… tsk tsk< sent 06/8/16 9:38 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

Lena rolled her tongue against the top of her mouth, before biting it, and looking back down at the screen. 

 

>Have you asked Cat for the reference yet?< sent 06/8/16 10:12 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>No...< sent 06/8/16 10:13 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Just do it Kara. Rip off the Band-aid. You’ve been her assistant for over three years!< sent 06/8/16 10:15 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Fine. But not in person.< sent 06/8/16 10:17 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Well obviously. You can’t interview for a new job if you’re missing your head.< sent 06/8/16 10:18 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>?? Ummm. What?< sent 06/8/16 10:20 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218

 

>Cause she bit it off. Come on Kara.< sent 06/8/16 10:21 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

_ If Kara only knew,  _ Lena thought. 

She felt herself smiling as she closed the pop-up window and navigated to an email from Kara to Cat’s IPs. Sure enough, shortly after lunch, the Superhero’s alter-ego had sent off a long and rambling email to Miss Grant about needing a recommendation for her interview with the incorrigible Snapper. She hadn’t obviously written  _ incorrigible _ —that had been a needed touch from Lena. 

Before closing the copy, Lena’s eyes hovered over a sentence mid-way through the second paragraph.  _ I was never sure when I needed to dive before, but now, it’s suddenly right in front of me. Dive! Go for it.  _

 

The next night, Lena entered the Catco lobby with a little sway to her step. She bit her lip, hiding her curiosity as she passed by the night security man. 

“Hi, Rueben,” she said, holding up her company ID. 

He waved her through and nodded his head to her. There weren’t a lot of night workers, so the two had gotten to a first name—more than simple pleasantries—basis. 

“Two more nights before the weekend,” Lena said, adjusting her purse over her blazer sleeve. 

“You are right about that,” he replied, shaking his head with a smile. 

“Any drunks try and wander in while I was gone?” she asked. 

He shook his head with a low rumbling laugh. 

“No, but there might have been a new night hire. That or a daytime worker that mistook Catco for their apartment building.”

They both shared an uncomfortable laugh, before Lena backed up towards the elevators with a final salute of a wave. 

When Lena stepped on, she pressed a button six floors above her own. It’d been over a week since she’d gone straight from the Catco lobby to Kara’s floor. The doors opened and Lena stepped off, noticing the shoebox almost immediately. It was sitting on Kara’s desk, with a bright yellow sticky on top. Lena’s heels clicked loud over the floor in the otherwise quiet office as she paced over to it, sitting dead-centre.

_ Thanks for letting me keep the stress ball. The rest is in here. -Kara _

Lena ran her fingers over the sparkly purple ink, before lifting the box’s lid. Inside was a collection of more of her trinkets—the ones Jack must have accumulated. She didn’t remember the last time she’d seen any of them, just recalled that she’d moved on from one to the next over time. 

Lena picked the box up and and tucked it under her arm, careful that its rough edges wouldn’t catch on her new skirt. 

 

There was a new employee at the PITA place when Lena stopped by at lunch. For a second, she felt her diaphragm contract and her stomach drop, but then, from the swinging door at the back, the girl with the dark braids came out carrying a new container of green peppers. 

“Long time, no see,” the girl said. 

Lena smiled wide and stepped up to the counter. The new employee looked up at her expectantly with a tired haze behind his eyes and a look of impatience. 

“I got this, Heath,” the girl said handing him the now empty container. 

He frowned and snatched it from her, walking back to the sink to rinse it, before turning it over and placing it on a dishwasher tray. 

“Your regular?” she asked, catching Lena’s attention. 

The woman nodded. 

“Of course.”

Lena scanned her uniform and noticed she was actually wearing a name-tag tonight. 

“What else would I order, Cherise?” Lena asked with a cheeky smile. 

The girl looked up, not from recognition, but in confusion. She followed Lena’s gaze until her face broke out in a large smirk. 

“Management was in here earlier, but it’s not mine,” she commented, picking out the veggies for Lena’s wrap. “And to answer your question, it could be for your friend Kara as well.”

“Well… Yes, I suppose it could.”

The two exchanged a long, questioning gaze, before  _ Not _ -Cherise picked up the pepper and ground a pinch on top of the wrap. 

“I apologize for all the questions,” Lena began. 

The girl shrugged.

“But do you know if there’s any place open right now that sells kombucha?”

The girl rang Lena up, while she held a quizzical look.

“I’m not really the best person to ask for that,” she replied. 

But after she’d handed Lena back her credit card, she held a finger up, asking Lena to  _ wait.  _ She proceeded to walk back through the swinging doors and when she reemerged a minute later, she had the name of a late night coffee shop scribbled on the back of an empty order form. 

“Luis says it’s overpriced, but it’s probably the only place still open that sells that, uh, Kombucha juice of yours.”

“It’s not juice; it’s—” Lena corrected, but  _ Not- _ Cherise probably didn’t care, so Lena cut herself off. 

“Thank you,” Lena amended, pulling her phone out to look up the coffee shop. 

“You’re welcome,” the girl replied. “I’ve heard it’s a nice first date place too.”

Lena’s head snapped back up, but the girl had already turned back to the counter. As she wiped away the crumbs from the wrap’s prep, Lena turned for the exit, only meeting the girl’s eyes when she passed by the window from the street. 

 

Although she’d surely run over the allotted time for her break, Lena walked the twelve minute route to the coffee shop. It was pretty busy for 12:19 at night. The scattered round tables were filled with young people with laptops and one older man on his phone. 

Lena stepped up to the front and stood in line behind a woman ordering four large coffees. In a cooler to the side, there were four flavour choices of Kombucha, all overpriced as  _ Not- _ Cherise’s co-worker had warned. Lena picked up two of the Hibiscus ones and shifted so she could hold both glasses in one hand. 

“Try this card, then,” the woman ordering four coffees said to the barista behind the register. 

She had a rather fluttery voice and didn’t look like she needed any more caffeine at this point. Lena turned her attention to a rack of the previous day’s papers. The top one had a story on new construction projects outside of the city and the one below, a picture of a building that looked familiar to Lena. In front of its doors were officials in NCPD jackets—one holding the classic pose: an arm raising the  _ caution: authorized personnel beyond this point  _ tape. With it held in her free hand, Lena scanned down to the title of the article, previously hidden by a bar across the front of the rack. 

_ Scientist Found Dead in Lab: Road to breakthrough halted.  _

“Miss?” 

Lena looked to see the barista smiling at her, waiting. 

“Sorry,” Lena apologized, before she slid both glass bottles across the counter. 

 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she stopped at Kara’s floor first thing on Friday, but it surely wasn’t was Kara’s boss.

“Question, Miss Luthor?” the woman said, sliding past her office doors. 

Lena turned abruptly, not quite at Kara’s desk yet, thankfully. 

“Miss Grant,” Lena replied dumbfounded. 

“Yes. That is me. It sure is nice to know that even my night shift employees know who I am,” she said resting a hand on the glass. 

“And you know mine,” Lena said, just now realizing that the CEO of Catco Media knew who she was! 

“Well, yes. I did hire you.”

Lena lifted a finger to reply, but her mouth ran dry.

“Don’t look surprised, Miss Luthor. We wouldn’t hire just anybody for that position of yours.”

Miss Grant rose an eyebrow and nodded her head forward slightly, still holding Lena’s gaze. 

_ Did she know?  _

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

Miss Grant moved away from the door and went to rest her bum against the front of Kara’s desk. 

“I take it our more sensitive information has not fallen into any unsavoury hands,” she said, running her eyes over Kara’s desk until it stopped at the phone. 

“That is correct,” Lena found herself saying. 

Miss Grant picked up the thermochromic stress ball and squeezed it in one hand. 

“Secrets,” she said after placing the ball in her other hand. “They can tire a person out—force them to make mistakes.”

“I have no intentions to make any mistakes,” Lena replied, stony. 

“Of course you wouldn’t. That’s why you’re here?”

Lena felt herself shrink. She was there for Kara and Miss Grant most definitely knew this. 

“I’ll go,” Lena said.

“Miss Luthor,” she heard the woman behind her say, voice raised above the intimidating purr it had before. 

“She’s not  _ that _ untouchable,” Miss Grant continued. 

“No?” Lena guffawed. 

Miss Grant shrugged. 

“Just think about it, ‘kay?”

Lena nodded and retreated back to the front. The elevator hummed as it descended the 6 floors to IT. Lena felt herself vibrating, even after she’d stepped off. She couldn’t focus on her work that night and instead read through James’ messages with Kara. He was always sweet and the voice of reason for Kara—it settled Lena’s nerves. 

 

>Did you lose some bet with Alex and Maggie?< sent 06/13/16 1:13 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226 

 

>No, why?< sent 06/13/16 1:20 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>First the wraps and now those fermented bacteria drinks?< sent 06/13/16 1:121 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226 

 

>Fermented what?< sent 06/13/16 1:21 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>Fermented bacteria.< sent 06/13/16 1:121 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226 

 

> That’s what I thought you said -_- Damn< sent 06/13/16 1:23 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>What?< sent 06/13/16 1:125 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226 

 

> I thought Kombucha was just a fancy tea< sent 06/13/16 1:26 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>Well it sort of is.< sent 06/13/16 1:32 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226 

 

>I didn’t think you’d ever worry about eating healthy, Kara< sent 06/13/16 1:33 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Well you were wrong< sent 06/13/16 1:35 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>On for drinks Saturday?< sent 06/13/16 1:40 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Only if you don’t mention this to Alex< sent 06/13/16 1:41 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.24.161.84

 

>Cross my heart and hope to die< sent 06/13/16 1:41 from 172.24.161.84 to 69.89.31.226

 

By Sunday, she still didn’t have a solution for the Supergirl problem. It’d been wearing away at her since her run in with Cat Grant and she was this close to asking the CEO herself for help.

Her two days off had seemed to fly by without much ado. She went to the gym, ignored the same losers that always tried to chat her up, then went to her new favourite vegan cafe after as a treat. 

She missed dressing up for fancy events, even if those events were the family galas she’d despised. On Sunday, she bought tickets for the local theatre and sat through a long musical she didn’t care for, just so she could wear a new dress she’d bought in Star City during the conference. Fancy dinners out looked odd when you sat alone and you actually needed to be someone to get invited to the expensive parties. Since she’d excommunicated her family, no one seemed to care that she’d come from money—especially now that she had so little. 

Despite how much she enjoyed her visits to Wrap Zone, Lena prepared her lunch at home before work on Monday. She needed to cut down on expenses after her shopping the week before and the theatre ticket she bought that weekend. 

Lena skipped Kara’s floor in fear of running into Cat Grant and instead went right to the breakroom to deposit her lunch bag. The fridge was a pasty white whose inside had been stained by so many spilled containers that it had a permanent yellow tint to the glass shelves. 

She opened the door and set her bag on the top shelf, when she noticed a paper bag with Jack’s name on it. At first she was stock still, frozen in fear that for some reason he’d transferred to Catco and would be working with her again. But then the foolish thought raced from her thoughts. Jack was a common name. There was sure to be another Jack at Catco. A Jack that was  _ IT girl’s ex _ ? 

Lena snatched the paper bag from the middle shelf and reread the front.  _ Jack’s IT ex-girlfriend.  _ So maybe the odds of there being another girl in IT with an ex named Jack was less, but still… 

Who was she kidding? She was a mess. This was a mess that she’d caused. 

Lena set the paper bag down on the round table and unfolded the top of the bag. Its creases were cold and stiff as Lena pulled both sides apart. Then, carefully, she reached her hand in and pulled out a red, plastic package. 

_ Kit Kats?  _

Lena plunged her hand in again and found a bag of chips, a small bag of cinnamon candy hearts—hopefully not leftover from February—and a carefully wrapped cupcake. Lena swiped her finger on the corner of it where some icing had squeezed out, and licked it. 

Underneath more treats, there was a carefully folded note on Catco stationary. It had a little panda sticker to keep it closed and smelled sweet like the contents of the bag. 

 

_ Jack’s Ex-Girlfriend,  _

 

_ I thought it would be rude to not thank you for the fermented bacteria drink and other green warrior type foods—that’s what Winn calls them. I’ve included some food that’s actually tasty. Don’t worry, it’s not healthy and it doesn’t really give you any nutrients, but trust me, it’s delicious.  _

 

_ Thanks Again,  _

_ Kara _

_ But you already knew that ;) _

 

Lena rose both hands to her face, incidentally dropping the note to the ground. The note was a lot to take in. Lena shifted her gaze to the pile of sweets on the table and held back the urge to cry. It was silly. But what was even more silly was just how much work that winking face emoticon had done on her insides. Lena picked it up from the floor and refolded it, sealing the panda around the edges. She put the snacks back into its bag for later, but pocketed the note, making sure not to crease it too much.

 

Lena didn’t stop by Kara’s floor again on Tuesday—still reeling from the day before—. She still checked up on the woman’s outgoing messages. There was one red flag from earlier that day, so Lena opened up the exchange between her and Winn.  _ Winn.  _

 

>Care to explain your weekly visits to accounting?< sent 06/16/16 14:45 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Not really< sent 06/17/16 14:46 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>What happened to the ‘striking’ woman?< sent 06/17/16 14:47 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Nothing< sent 06/17/16 14:47 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>And by nothing, I mean I haven’t seen her since.< sent 06/17/16 14:48 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Oh. That really sucks.< sent 06/17/16 14:49 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Oh yeah, it does.< sent 06/17/16 14:49 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>You sure seem really fraught about it lol.< sent 06/17/16 14:50 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>I am. I am! I just. I’m distracted< sent 06/17/16 14:51 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>An accounting person got your fancy?< sent 06/17/16 14:53 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>If you mean Janine from accounting, then yes.< sent 06/17/16 14:55 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Ooh! Why does that name sound familiar?< sent 06/17/16 14:56 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>Janine Murray. Late 50s. Messes up our pay cheques on a weekly basis.< sent 06/17/16 14:57 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Oh. Right. Ha. So she’s no competition?< sent 06/17/16 14:58 from 172.30.0.218 to 69.89.31.226

 

>You’re a  **dumbass** < sent 06/17/16 14:58 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>And for your information, shoebox lady has more of a chance at this point since I know that she’s at least single.< sent 06/17/16 15:00 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>’Striking’ lady is taken?!< sent 06/17/16 15:01 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>I’m assuming. Why wouldn’t she be?< sent 06/17/16 15:03 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Not to add to your pity party, but shoebox lady could also be taken too.< sent 06/17/16 15:06 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

>Bite your own head off.< sent 06/17/16 15:06 from 69.89.31.226 to 172.30.0.218 

 

Lena pulled back from the screen. She had a name. It wasn’t much better than Jack’s Ex-girlfriend, but it was something. Lena gripped the side of her forearm until her pulse slowed down. 

“Fuck it,” Lena bit out. 

She had a name! She spun once in her chair. They talked about her. 

“I’m fucking shoebox lady!” she said louder, shaking her head with a silly grin. 

She heard the shuffling footsteps before Shaun had said anything. 

“That’s questionable,” Shaun said from the door. 

Lena straightened herself in the chair and smiled sheepishly. 

“Hey Shaun,” she said, waving. 

Why was she waving? She lowered her hand until it settled, shaking a bit in her lap.

“Uhh… So, I wanted to make sure you’d be okay with coming in for two half days this Thursday and Friday instead of your night shift.”

Lena perked up, but then she tilted her head to the side and clicked her tongue against her teeth. 

“Why?”

“I’ve cleared three candidates for the assistant position and I wanted you to be there for the interviews. They will be  _ your _ assistant.”

Lena found herself nodding. 

“That will be fine,” she said, fighting the words through a shortage of saliva in her mouth.

“Great,” Shaun said with a big smile. “I’ll see you bright and early on Thursday.”

He shot her a thumbs up and left her office. 

“Why?” Lena mumbled, dropping her head to the desk. 

“That’s 9 am, in case you weren’t sure, Shoebox lady,” Shaun added, popping his head back in the office. 

Lena nodded her head—forehead rubbing against the desk top. She raised a hand behind her, head still lowered, and gave him a thumbs up in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's only like one or two chapters left until they meet. You guys are real troopers.


End file.
